


Of Lies and Loyalties

by Echo_Moon23



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Cheerleader!Patton, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Graffiti, High School AU, M/M, Mention of underage drinking, Remus is a menace, Virgil and Roman get to Romance eventually, Virgil has different colored eyes, darksides are a clique, designs by artyeet, eventual gay panic, eventual pining, generally high school stuff happens, hopeless flirting, hurt/comfort at points, im SO sorry., implied sexual content (not much though), innuendos, light sides are a clique, long fic- to be updated when I have time, more tags to be added as the story progresses- no spoilers, oof this is a lot of tags, please just let the children be happy, probably a lot more angst than I said there was going to be, soccer player!Roman, theatre references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 31,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23938648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo_Moon23/pseuds/Echo_Moon23
Summary: High school was nothing like Virgil thought it would be.Well, more like nothing he was told it would be.He was never on a sports team.He was never invited to a raging all night party.Heck, he hadn’t even gone to the homecoming dance.No, his days were mostly spent ducking through halls of dead-tired students, and his Friday nights used up helping Deceit and Remus with whatever stupid scheme they had devised. Mostly he faded into the background, and he liked it that way. High school hadn’t been very good, but it hadn’t been absolutely awful.That was, at least, until he was forced to join theatre to save his grades and came face to face with the hands down, most annoying boy in school, Roman Prince.It was safe to say, high school was never the same after that.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 136
Kudos: 358





	1. Chapter 1

Virgil actually hated very few things.

Oh, sure, he strongly disliked and even resented many _many_ things, but his list of actual _hates_ was more minimal than one would suspect.

He disliked things that were inconvenient, like when he’d pull food out of the microwave and it was still cold in the middle, or when he was trying to look something up and the search bar auto filled exactly what he was looking for, but then auto filled something else right before he clicked so that he was taken to a topic completely unrelated to what he was looking for.

He resented things that didn’t make any sense to him, like his pre-calculus homework or the fact that they were forced to learn cursive only to never ever use it like literally ever or how dentists always tried to talk to him when he wasn’t able to respond. Like, what, do they really expect you to say something back when they practically have your tongue in their hands? What was with that?

No, all these things Virgil thought were annoying or weird, but he didn’t hate them.  
He hated very specific things that pushed his buttons in a way nothing else could.

He hated when people were mean to their pets for no reason other than being malicious.  
He hated that no teacher seemed to understand that, just because he was too nervous to present a project, didn’t mean he was an idiot or just being “uncooperative.”  
He hated when people called him “mismatch” or “odd-eye” or “Hocus-Pocus” because of his unusual eye color, when he, (what a shock) didn’t have any control over it.

The list of hatreds went on, sure, but it was still relatively short and had fairly strict criteria for its content,

which was why Virgil never expected to be adding the entirety of Mr. Sanders’s U.S. History class to that list.

He knew today had taken a turn the second he had stepped foot through the battered classroom door and read the 17 letter name printed neatly on the board in powdery white chalk.  
He tried to ignore it, pretend that it didn’t exist there on the board behind him, but that was proving to be difficult since it meant that class was going to be approximately 9 and a half times worse than it usually was.  
He made a point of ducking down his head as he walked his way to the back corner of the room where his desk sat. It was purposefully pushed away from the others, partly in shadow from the tall bookshelf that obstructed half of a fluorescent light above it. The desk was inconspicuous and out of the line of sight of most other people when class was in session, and that was the way he liked it, though he felt it didn’t give him much shelter today.

As he walked over scuffed, color flecked white tile, Virgil stared with increasing intensity down at the toes of his black-laced converse, but quickly found that the mismatched toned shoes did nothing to ease the sense of impending dread currently welling up in his stomach.  
He knew this day was coming, but he didn’t think so soon. He thought he had more time, a few more days of peace, but he should have known that the world liked to throw things at him at the most unexpected and inconvenient of times.  
Because, on the board, in Mr. Sanders’s tidy chalk print read the name Alexander-

“HAMILTON!” A tall boy in a red letterman jacket shouted from the front.

_Ah, so the madness begins_ , thought Virgil.  
Of course he had to be stuck in the class with the one teacher who also happened to be the theatre director, and of course, that class had to be full of a fair amount of the most annoying theatre kids on the face of the entire _earth_.  
Most namely, Roman Prince.

“I thought you would be more interested than usual in today’s lesson, Roman” Mr. Sanders said with a small laugh, from his seated position at his desk.  
Virgil liked Mr. Sanders. He was a good teacher, but generally he just seemed like a good person. He liked that he was more laid back than the other teachers in school. You really never knew what you were going to find when you walked into his class. Many days Virgil would walk in to see Mr. Sanders with his feet up on his desk, casually stretched back in his black office chair reading some kind of dystopian YA novel, or projecting his game of Pokémon up on the board for them to see. The two seemed to have an understanding that Virgil just couldn’t seem to strike with other professors. It was almost like, somehow, Sanders hadn’t yet lost the memory of what it was like to be a high schooler, what it was like to be someone like Virgil.  
Today, however, he was stretching that ability to be liked very thin, considering he could practically feel the room descend a little bit further into utter chaos as Mr. Sanders gently turned up the volume on whatever device was currently playing the beginning of the Hamilton soundtrack in the background.

“Well, no offense, Sanders, but we are finally learning about something not utterly snooze-worthy for a change. How could I not be just a tad more invested than usual?”, Roman voiced again, but it looked like, probably because God seemed to hate Virgil, Roman wouldn’t stop voicing.

“It’s the ten dollar founding father without a father, who got a lot farther by working a lot harder, by being a lot smarter by being a self starter by fourteen...” the boy in red continued, half sprawled out over a desk with his feet propped up on the nearest chair.  
“They placed him in charge of a trading charter!” Both Roman and Mr. Sanders finished together.  
Virgil stifled a groan as he shrugged his headphones over his ears and reached to flick the hood of his black and purple jacket up over his head, attempting to block out whatever horribly annoying thing was fated to be said next. The headphones alone, however, didn’t do much to stifle the sound of excited lyrical chanting as more and more of the school’s classic theatre cast joined in. Virgil reached for the button on the headphones’ wire that was used to start playing a steady stream of MCR or Panic!At the Disco or even Set it off or Falling in Reverse on occasion. They were the only solace he had in dark times such as these.  
Expect the headphones weren’t playing any of those usual bands.  
They weren’t playing anything at all.  
Virgil reached for the button and clicked it again.

Nothing.

_Oh God. No. No no no no no no no-_  
The pit in Virgil’s stomach seemed to grow a little wider as he reached for his phone to check the battery life of his headphones and-  
dead.  
They were dead. Of course they were dead. And of course today was the one day that Virgil had decided to lend Deceit his charger.

_Mother fu-_  
“Oh I see it’s Hamilton day! You know I can see you all are already having a Hamil-TON of fun with this” piped up a cheery voice from near the door over the sound of at least 9 raging, eccentric voices screaming “I’m the damn fool that shot him” in various versions of on key, one of which was their teacher’s.  
“Ah Patton the perfectionist pun master returns!” Yelled Roman with a grin over the commotion from his position now standing on a chair.  
“Guess you could say my jokes are Non-Stop!” Patton Foster giggled from the door, standing next to a boy in dark blue who looked about as done with this whole situation as Virgil felt.  
“May I inquire as to why you are all utterly obsessed with this one historical figure simply because of a Musical? The use of words in the lyrical storytelling is admittedly exceeding the level of what I would tend to consider satisfactory, but the historical inaccuracies are absolutely glaring”

“Come on Logan Berry -far from exciting, can’t you ignore the fact that the show isn’t perfect and appreciate its perfection?” Roman said with a smile before tagging on the end to another song lyric.  
“Wow. Rude much? By the way, that statement was inherently contradictory. Do you even hear yourself when you speak?” Logan replied back, clearly irritated from simply being in the room for more than a minute now.  
 _That makes two of us_ Virgil thought to himself.  
Evidently Roman did not hear himself or Logan, for that matter, considering that he was definitely back to singing something at an obnoxious volume.

Suddenly the bell was ringing and Mr. Sanders was turning the volume on his blue tooth speaker down to what many would consider a much more reasonable level. However, it was still unreasonably loud to Virgil considering he could still hear it through his cursedly dead headphones.

“Alright, Alright everyone please take your seats! I know obviously this is the most exciting lesson of the year for some of you because of a certain musical I don’t think I need to name... mostly because it’s needs no introduction but that’s aside the point. Today we will be going over the accomplishments of...” Mr. Sanders continued on, gesturing to the room as if to cue them to speak. Multiple people quietly mumbled the answer while, of course, extra as he always seemed to need to be, Roman sang elaborately and more notably _loudly_ the name, “Alexander Hamilton.”

Virgil gave a very outwardly recognizable (not to mention audible) sigh of annoyance. He was fed up with this entire thing already. He tilted his head up towards the ceiling tiles and let his eyes fall closed. All he wanted, for once in his life, was to come to school and have everything go right. Just one time. That was all he asked.  
When Virgil looked back down, he made accidental sideways eye contact with Roman, who was shooting him a stare over his shoulder which could have only been described as icy at best. Guess he heard the sigh. Great. Absolutely wonderful. As if Virgil didn’t need one more person against him today.  
 _Sure universe why don’t you just pile it on? Apparently I’m already your punching bag so why not at least make it interesting because of course this is exactly what I had in mind for school today thhhaaannnkkkk yooooouuuuuu_

“Virgil. Headphones and hood off please?” Mr. Sanders said firmly from the front of the classroom. It wasn’t a question, even if it had sounded like one.  
“But I-“ Virgil started, but it was no use, Mr. Sanders was already giving him the ‘ _Now, please_ ’ look that teachers always gave when there was no getting out of something. “Fine” he surrendered quietly.  
He heard a few people giggle in front of him and saw Roman’s face twist into a satisfied smirk before turning his head back to face the front of the classroom.  
Virgil rolled his eyes.  
 _Universe one, Virgil zero._  
This day just kept getting better and better.  
It seemed like it was going to be a very long class period.  
...

Virgil was right. It had been a very long class period.  
After multiple interjections into the lecture by a certain light brown haired boy in red and his theatre entourage, and even more interjections from Logan Berry on the “historical inaccuracies of this overplayed musical”, it was finally, finally over, and Virgil was more than happy to be done with it.  
He quickly shoved his notebook and pens into whatever compartments he could in his purple patched bag, flipped the flap of it closed, double checked he wasn’t leaving anything behind, and attempted to flee from the room.  
It was always better to get out fast. The faster he got out, the more hallway traffic he could avoid before lunch, the more hallway traffic he avoided before lunch, the better chance he had of missing the usual obstacles of angry jocks pushing him into lockers or people yanking on his hoodie.  
As he moved toward the door, he was shoulder checked by a tall soccer boy who looked about as smart as the nearest doorknob.  
“Watch it Emo” snapped the guy, who had at least a good 6 inches on him height wise.  
 _Maybe you should watch it, Jerk,_ he thought as he got closer to the door.  
 _Just a little bit more and you can slip out unnoticed_.

“Virgil? Could you stay for a moment?” Said Mr. Sanders’s voice from behind him. Virgil winced and instinctively tried to make himself smaller than he already was.  
 _No, Mr. Sanders, I really can’t stay for a moment. If it don’t get out there right now I’m going to get eaten alive and that’s something I would very much not like today._  
“Sure” he said instead, his sense of respect winning out over his fear.  
Virgil readjusted the strap of the backpack slung over his right shoulder and moved to turn back, almost running into someone as he did so, but flinching back just in time to avoid the collision and sidestepping around them.  
Everyone else had already fled the room by the time Virgil finally made it back to Mr. Sanders’s desk, which he guessed, if he was going to get scolded for the headphones thing, was more ideal than not.  
If this meeting was quick he could still get out and slip silently through the hall and the side door. If he was lucky (which, the universe owed him to be today), he could make it without any, well, less than ideal encounters.  
The smile that Sanders wore was sympathetic, and that was a face Virgil did not like at all.  
 _Please for the love of God yell at me and let me go._  
Somewhere inside himself, he knew that was not what was going to happen. That wasn’t Mr. Sanders’s style.  
“Would you pull up a chair please?”

Aaaaaannndddd there it was.  
 _Well there goes any chance of getting out early_ Virgil thought, disappointed. If he was being told to pull up a chair he was in it for the long haul.  
Virgil brushed his bangs out of his eyes and reached for the back of a chair, attempting to swing it out from under the desk but just ending up getting it caught on the desk’s leg and yanking the desk with it. Literally nothing, not even this, seemed to be going right for him today.  
After finally pulling the chair free and setting it on the opposite side of the desk from Mr. Sanders, he dropped his bag by the leg of the chair and sat down in the uncomfortably stiff seat.  
“I really don’t want to keep you all that long, I know you have lunch right now so I’ll try to make it quick. I would have caught you after school but I don’t know what period you’re in then and I was worried I would miss you” the teacher said quietly. Virgil only sat there, still in response, making the best eye contact he could as his purple tinted black hair rebelled and fell over his single green eye.  
“Virgil I wanted to talk to you about your performance in this class so far.” Mr. Sanders said seriously.  
Oh good, so this was going to be a fun conversation.  
Virgil wasn’t exactly the best student. He tried, sure, but that didn’t always work out too well.  
Between the time he spent in the back of class with his headphones on trying to block out the incessant chatter of everyone else, and the days he was too nervous to test take well, at some point he had just stopped trying as hard as he used to.  
He still made Bs and even As in most classes, but it was only because of retaken tests and makeup work.  
However, he did need those Bs, and As if he wanted good marks for college applications, which, he definitely did.

Virgil cast his eyes down to stare at the worn purple cuffs of his jacket like they might be able to save him from whatever lecture he was inevitably about to receive. He trusted Mr. Sanders, but that didn’t mean he didn’t put it past him to do the same thing as every other teacher. They all tried to “talk some sense” into him, even though he really didn’t need it. He understood already. He wasn’t stupid. It wasn’t his fault his mind was just utterly overactive and couldn’t settle down enough to let him do well.  
Mr. Sanders pulled a packet of papers out from somewhere under his desk and pushed it gently toward Virgil over the expanse if scratched wood between them.

“Do you want to tell me anything about this?” Mr. Sanders inquired quietly.  
For once Virgil thanked God that it was Mr. Sanders and not some other teacher who called him in today. He at least had the decency to be kind about this instead of shoving what was obviously the last history test they had taken into Virgil’s hands like it had burned him.  
Vigil cast his eyes on the first page of the already completed exam. It was the chapter three test, primarily composed of multiple choice and vocabulary with a one page essay on the back. He should know, he took this very test last week.  
In the top corner of the test, next to his own name which he himself had placed in rapid, but still legible scrawl, was the number 42 with a red circle drawn around it.  
A failing grade.  
 _Fantastic_ , Virgil thought sarcastically.

“No, Mr. Sanders. I don’t think there’s really anything to tell. That’s an F. It’s not like we both don’t know it.” Virgil stated dejectedly as he tried to look anywhere else but the disappointed gaze of his teacher.  
“Yes. It’s an F. What I want you to help me understand, is why. You’re a smart kid. I know you. And I know that you know the material. What I don’t know is why you didn’t apply it here.” Said Mr. Sanders who was still staring at him with an expression that was half calm concern and half actual worry.  
Virgil gave a small shrug and attempted to hide his own self criticism.  
 _Yeah Virgil why can’t you just apply it. You knew it. You could have studied, but instead you chose to try and inevitably fail completely blind. Why was that?_  
Mr. Sanders gave a tired sigh.  
“Vigil you are extremely bright. You were one of my best students in English two last year and made me regret not being able to teach you in English one your freshman year. I know you put a lot of effort into your writing and it’s very profound for your age. Really, Virgil, it is. Seeing you were in my class this year was exciting for me because I knew you could do great things. I still think you can. I just want to know what happened. I want to help you in anyway I can but you have to help me do that.”  
Mr. Sanders wasn’t necessarily wrong. English had always been his best subject. Writing was just something that he’d always done. Everyone had their thing, some had theatre, some had sports, some had music, some had art, well Virgil, Virgil had writing. It was sometimes the only outlet he had at all, and over the years he’d gotten pretty good at it, or at least, that’s what teachers always said.

“I think you’re overestimating my skills some. I’m no genius by any means, as evidenced by the failed test currently laying on the desk between us. You said it yourself, I was only really ever good at English anyway. So I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m fine.” Virgil replied back, shuffling a little in his chair, but making an effort to hold the eye contact he had finally made. Someone had once told him eye contact was the best was to convince someone else of your point. He hoped that was true.

“Are you really?” Mr. Sanders asked doubtingly in response.

Virgil really didn’t know the answer to that sometimes, but he definitely wasn’t about to bare his soul like that in the middle of the day in a stuffy classroom to a teacher of all people.  
 _No_  
“Sure”

“Forgive me, but you don’t make a very convincing argument” his professor replied with a humorless chuckle.

“I’m not a very convincing person” Virgil quipped back. He wasn’t trying to get snappy, he really wasn’t. He liked Mr. Sanders and obviously he was only trying to help, but Virgil had already had what felt like a very long day, and it was only 11:30. He just wanted to take his things and go.

“Virgil, I know it’s still early in the semester, but if you carry on like this, I’m not going to be able to pass you”

Now _that_ caught Virgil’s attention.  
He flicked his eyes back up to stare at his teacher in a flash of panic.  
He did not have the time to retake this class. He needed to get through this with at least a B if he wanted any chance at college scholarships, which, he desperately needed.“You can’t be serious” Virgil said dumbly. Instantly he felt like slapping himself in the face for that comment.  
 _Really Virgil? That’s what you decided to say? Of course he is serious, do you not know how all of school works? You don’t do the work, you don’t pass. At least try to act like you have a single brain cell left, Christ._

“I’m very serious, you’re toeing a very risky line. I hate to break it to you so bluntly, but you’re grade is already going to suffer just based on what you’ve shown me these past few units, even if you pick up the pace a little. I know you won’t be happy with the end result” Mr. Sanders continued on in a commiserating tone. The statement was blunt and a little discouraging, but there was something in Mr. Sanders voice that hinted at something more.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ at the end of that statement” Virgil pointed out shortly. He took a breath and let it out with what sounded a little like a frustrated sigh.  
“Mr. Sanders I need to pass this class. If there’s extra credit, I’m willing to try almost anything” Virgil said in a hesitant voice.  
Virgil cast his eyes back to the side, unable to bare the eye contact anymore and hunched his shoulders in. He felt bad about all this. He felt bad about the disappointment that had been evident in his teacher’s voice, he felt bad about the failed test, he felt a little bad about himself in general, but that was aside the point.  
If there was something he could do to fix his grade, he would do it, or at least, he would try. He wasn’t ready to promise, he didn’t really do promises, but he was willing to try.  
Virgil didn’t have the motivation to do much to supplement his grade, but the anxiety flaring in his stomach over the prospect of having accidentally denied himself the possibility of ever getting out of this town was enough of a fire under his butt to get him going.  
Mr. Sanders’s eyes lit up as an excitedly wide grin spread across his face, and something inside Virgil instantly regretted just agreeing to do “almost anything.” God, why didn’t he ever think before he spoke?

“Great! Well I was doing some thinking and...”  
Virgil let out another frustrated sigh. It was never good when Mr. Sanders got to “thinking.” It always meant something was up, and by the tone of his voice, this had the possibility of being a very annoying something.  
“Your problem isn’t you not knowing or understanding the material, it’s the application of it” His teacher said pointedly. All of the sudden, Mr. Sanders was on his feet and the _tap, tap, tap, tap,_ of his own black converse could be heard on the tile as he made his way quickly to the wide row of rectangular windows that graced the right of the classroom.  
The pep in his voice as he spoke was almost frightening.  
Virgil really didn’t like where this was headed.  
“So, I thought, that since it was the motivation you’re struggling with, not the content itself, I need you to show me your willing to put a good amount effort into something. I want to see you apply yourself to something that matters, in addition to getting your current grades in this class up, of course” his eccentric professor continued on, now staring out onto the school grounds illuminated by the mid-day sun. Virgil watched as he ran his fingers over the edge of a stack of bright blue papers, attempting to pick one up off the stack, failing, and licking his finger before finally being able to pick up the paper and hold it in his hand. When he turned back around Mr. Sanders was absolutely beaming. With the paper in his hand he quickly made his way back over to Virgil who promptly shied away. All this sunshine and rainbows attitude was making him more nervous than usual, and that was saying something.  
“As you know I’m also the director for the Theatre department and-“  
Virgil’s heart dropped into the very lowest part of his stomach, the only evidence of which was the small squeak that inadvertently left his mouth.  
 _Oh dear God what fresh hell is this._

Mr. Sanders pushed the paper toward him with pride. The paper was a bright sky blue with the words “Cinderella” printed in large curly font on the top.  
“It’s an audition sheet. I want you to be in the Musical. If you hadn’t already guessed we are doing Cinderella! It’s exciting, I know” Mr. Sanders practically was bouncing up and down, clearly ecstatic about their production.  
Virgil, on the other hand, was horrified.  
“You want me to be in theatre? Really?”  
He said shakily. His nerves seemed to be firing all at once, fight or flight reflexes rearing themselves to go. He stared down at the paper in shocked disbelief, he knew Sanders was eccentric, but this eccentric? So eccentric to believe that Virgil would even survive a single moment in an audition? That was something he did not expect.

“If you hadn’t noticed, Teach,” Virgil started, staring with incredulity at Mr. Sanders, “I’m not really the kid who puts himself out there. I’m more the kid people beat up when I’m not putting myself out there. So thanks, but the stage is the last place I want to be” Virgil said with a wavering voice. He reached for the strap of his bag almost instinctively. He wanted out before this had the chance to get worse.  
“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down, I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do” Mr. Sanders said softly, the excitement falling out of his tone as he attempted to calm Virgil down. “You don’t have to audition for an onstage roll. You could do tech. You know, running around in all black in the shadows moving stuff? Pardon my assumption, but that seems like it would kinda be your thing” He said with a small chuckle.

It did sound like Virgil’s thing, but being in a production, behind or in front of the curtain, did not. Even if he wasn’t on stage, this was highly concerning.  
“Can’t I just like, do a poster on the Civil war or something? An essay on WWII? I’d even do a presentation, just anything but this” Virgil said waving his hand in gesture to the paper.

Mr. Sanders gave a small compassionate smile accompanied by an almost inaudible sigh and sat back down, folding his hands in front of him on the desk as he stared at Virgil.  
“I know this may seem scary now, but I really think it could be good for you. Get out of your comfort zone, push yourself a little. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you could handle it.”

Virgil tried to breathe as he weighed his options. On the one hand, if he did this, he’d get the grade. He would pass this class and he would get the credit he needed, but at what cost to his sanity? If he didn’t, by the end of the year he would probably be failing this class and have to take it again, effectively crippling any chance he had at a scholarship.  
As much as he hated it, there was really only one option.

“Okay?” His teacher asked hopefully.

There was a beat of silence, and then Virgil heard his own voice echo back,  
“Okay. Okay, I’ll do it”  
All the sudden it was like a bomb had gone off in the room.  
Mr. Sanders practically shook with excitement as he shot to his feet.  
“You aren’t going to regret this Virgil I promise” he said through a smile.  
“I sure hope not” Virgil replied quietly.

“Of course this is going to be a big help to your grade, but there are still going to need to be a few changes. For starters, no more headphones in my class please? And I’m counting on you to get these grades up a little. Always ask if you need help”  
 _Yeah, like that’s going to happen._

“Sure thing, Teach. Can I go now?”  
 _Now that I’ve sold my soul to the devil?_  
He thought as stood up and reached again for his bag, hoisting it off the floor and onto his shoulder in one quick motion like he had already been given the permission to go.

“Just one more thing. I want to let you know that I’m going to be moving the seating around a little. I want to get you out of that corner so maybe you can focus a little better, and this way I can get you better acquainted with some of your future cast-mates” Mr. Sanders said with a smirk that only could have been described as devious.

Virgil’s eyes went wide as he realized what Mr. Sanders meant.  
“Oh, no. You don’t mean...”  
In response his overly excited teacher only lifted his mug of already cold coffee to conceal a mischievous smile.

Virgil leaned his head back to stare up at the ceiling tiles with a groan.

It was going to be a very, very, long rest of the semester.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we get to talk to Remus and Deceit. That, and Virgil meets a certain green eyed Prince...

Deceit and Remus took the news of Virgil’s new extracurricular obligation notably better than expected. 

Deceit was wearing the same disapproving scowl he usually chose to dawn, obviously less than thrilled at the news, while Remus, on the other hand looked like he might choke to death on his own laughter. 

After a little more instruction from Mr. Sanders on the time and location of theatre rehearsal, plus some extra information about their new in-class arrangement, Virgil had said goodbye to his teacher and promptly escaped down the hallway. He found said hallway to be blessedly empty (likely since they were almost halfway through lunch by the time they ended their discussion) and used the opportunity to duck down a vacant side corridor and out the school’s backdoors with practiced ease. From there it hadn’t taken long to locate his two best friends in their usual position near the large green dumpsters that sat at the very back end of the school. 

Many people may ask why the three spent their lunch by the dumpsters, and really, even Virgil couldn’t be sure. The smell wasn’t exactly pleasant, nor was the scenery, with it being mostly concrete and metal railings in the general vicinity. There was a small forest that broke up the monotony of grey pavement and rusted bars not too far in front of the place the three usually sat, but they never even step foot in it, and hardly looked at it on purpose. 

Virgil certainly hadn’t chosen this spot in the first place, he simply found it and Deceit and Remus with it. 

Oh had that been an interesting day.

He figured they stayed out here because Deceit and Remus both seemed to despise the cafeteria for different reasons. Deceit hated it because of the loud and “utterly idiotic” banter of the majority of students, and Remus because, according to him, everyone was entirely too boring. After all, to Remus, did a cafeteria even have a use of it wasn’t going to be the setting of a food fight?

Virgil didn’t mind being outside for lunch or any other break for that matter. Being away from people brought some peace to the ever swirling storm of nerves within him, and he did have to admit that the sun felt nice on his shoulders. Besides that, all three of them liked this spot because the teachers all seemed to hate the prospect of them being out here in the middle of the day, and it was always fun to piss off a teacher, especially one you hated, which, to be fair, was most teachers. 

Today he’d burst out the back doors in a huff, half from the fact he’d just run all the way from his classroom (he was by no means an athlete) and half because he was overly irritated with the recent developments of the tv drama he ever so lovingly referred to as “How bad can today be? Worse than you think” that was his life. 

When he’d loudly burst out into the outside world he was met with the familiar sight of Deceit and Remus. Deceit, as usual, was leaning against the cinderblock wall with one leg kicked back against it and his arms crossed over his chest. His beanie covered hair was swept low over his eyes as he stared down at Remus, who looked to be trying to murder an aunt colony with the sun. 

Deceit’s eyes were always a mystery to Virgil, not like in a Victorian Romance Novel type “why are your eyes so deep and captivating” type sense, but more in a “they are literally yellow, why the heck are they yellow” type sense. Then again, Virgil guessed he had no real place to judge when his eyes were, in and of themselves, two very different colors and far from normal by any means. 

Virgil and Deceit had struck an understanding with each other almost the moment they met. Most people thought they were brothers or at least had been friends for more than the year and a half Virgil had been at this school. The two definitely had their similarities, with both of them favoring the color black, their unusual eyes and stand offish demeanors, but that was about where the commonality ended. If you really knew them you knew that personally they were very _very_ different. 

Virgil was anxious, wary, but quite the challenging person to be around at times. He was the kind of person to make a snide remark while someone tried to beat the crap out of him, even though he was absolutely terrified. If Virgil didn’t like someone or something, even if he didn’t voice it, he would show it. Deceit, on the other hand, well, Virgil was convinced Deceit didn’t have fears. 

Deceit was a fucking force of nature. 

He was confident, snide, sarcastic, and misleading almost constantly, that was how he got his nick-name after all. If there truly had been a snake in the garden of Eden, Deceit may as well have been him. Crossing him had a way of mysteriously coming back to bite you, so most stayed away if they could help it. 

Then there was Remus, who stayed away from Deceit precisely zero percent of the time. 

Call it stupidity or lack of self preservation, but Remus could not leave the yellow eyed bad boy alone if he tried.

Remus was the very definition of chaos and everyone knew it. From his spiked black leather jacket to his dangly earring and the mustache he was obviously trying to grow out, the entire thing screamed “chaotic evil.” Virgil guessed that was why Deceit and Remus were so close, Deceit was the “lawful” to Remus’s “chaotic”. Deceit was formidable, intimidating, slick, attractive, but in a way people feared. No one wanted to be around him because they thought he was electric, but in a scary way. Remus was spastic, chaotic, exciting, but in a way that repulsed most. Remus seemed to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted and had very few regards for the consequences or for what position they put him in sometimes. Which was great for when he decided he wanted to be friends with the school’s designated viper. 

They worked well together. Deceit seemed to appreciate finally having someone who didn’t flee at the sight of him or try to use him for their own benefit, and Remus seemed to be happy to find someone with a mind just as conniving as his own, if not just a little more sensible. 

And of course, who was Virgil in all this? Just the boy who’d stumbled upon them the day he’d first come to this school, not understanding anything and panicked out of his mind, and in a way, they understood each other. All outcasts for different reasons. 

But, back in the present, their bond was becoming stretched as Remus continued to cackle, leaving the poor ant hill behind in favor of burning Virgil instead. 

The boy in the Spiked black jacket was standing now, if you could count hunched over in laughter standing. His brown and grey streaked hair fell down over his eyes as he continued to shake with the force of his hysterics, almost breathlessly at this point, slamming his fist down on his thigh as he attempted to speak.

“You” he wheezed, trying to breathe through the laughter still shaking his shoulders, “you have to do THEATRE with my idiot brother! Oh my GOD” he continued to cackle “You’re gonna have- your going to have to-to do some cheesy awful show and be up there in front of EVERYONE” Remus said almost choking at this point. 

Virgil felt the blood rush up to his face as his veins tried to expel the embarrassment physically from his body. He looked sideways as his arms unintentionally moved to curl around himself.

“It’s not funny. And I’m just doing tech” Virgil snapped in an irritated voice. He liked Remus, but sometimes the guy could be a real pain in the ass. 

“I need the credit in this class for college and Sanders wouldn’t give me another out.”

Remus made a visible effort to stand up as he continued to chuckle and move his way towards Virgil. 

“Awwww Virgey look at your pouty little face. You could just not go to college. Better yet just stay home, become a stripper or something! You’d be great common look at you” Remus said, grabbing Virgil’s face and pinching his cheeks “they’d eat you up” He continued darkly, bearing his teeth to make a mock nip at the smaller boy in purple. 

Virgil flinched out of the way, yanking his head out of Remus’s grip with a hiss. The heat radiating off his cheeks only became more furious. Yup. Remus was a pain in the ass. 

“Remus would you stop harassing Virgil please? I would very much like to eat in peace without the image you just described in my head” Deceit said, his eyes narrowing as he cast a pointed look their direction. He flipped a bright red apple with irritation back and forth over his fingers as he did so, likely to simply make a point. 

“Oh come on, Dissy, you never let me have any fun” Remus said with a groan, throwing his head back in mock displeasure as he threw an equally pointed look back in Deceit’s direction. 

“Glad to know that my mortification is fun for you” Virgil replied “and equally as glad to know that you wouldn’t have defended me if it hadn’t been for your lunch” he shot back at Deceit. 

“Don’t bite the hand that feeds, Virgil” Deceit said flatly as he bit down into the apple. 

“Besides, I’m not going to mock you for wanting to better yourself for the future, I am, however, going to mock the very unfortunate situation you’ve gotten yourself into” the snake continued on, speech muffled by the fruit crunching between his teeth “because that truly is unfortunate” he hissed through a smug grin. 

“If you really wanted to be a basic theatre bitch you should just be taking lessons from Roman” Remus snorted out. He then walked over to Deceit, gently plucked the apple from his hand and skittered away before Deceit could make a lunge for his snack back. 

“Really” Remus continued, taking a bite out of the other side of the apple, “he’s so cookie cutter it’s practically criminal. I mean, would it kill him to, I don’t know, drive on the wrong side of the road for once just for the thrill of it like I’ve been suggesting?”

“Oh Remus it really is a shame they don’t let you drive anymore, what ever could possibly be the reason?” Deceit said in an overly sweet, obviously insincere tone, his eyes wide with false innocence. 

Virgil let out a groan. He’d surely not forgotten about Remus’s brother, no, that would have been a miracle, but he’d just now gotten to the point where he’d repressed the topic enough that he could convince himself he wasn’t going to have to deal with that again today. 

As part of their agreement, the seating chart in Sanders’s class was going to be moved, and since Sanders was who he was, Virgil now had the immense honor of sitting at a desk group with none other than “the basic theatre bitch” himself, Roman Prince. Sanders had said it was so that Virgil could try to get to know some of his cast, and Virgil understood that, really, he did, but of all people did it have to be  _Roman_? Virgil and Roman never really did get along. Roman was everything Virgil wasn’t. He was tall, athletic, dramatic, popular, loud, outspoken, and annoying beyond reason. Some people say opposites attract, and though that may have been true, it was certainly not true in their case. 

“On the bright side, Virgil” Deceit continued on in a dark tone “you’ll be in the center of a group of very influential students. A perfect place to pick up some innocent information for your dear friend” Deceit hissed sweetly, placing a hand on his chest in gesture to himself. 

“I’m not going to pick up fodder for your little gossip ring” Virgil spat back matter of factly. 

Gossip was one of the reasons Deceit was feared. He could take a truth and spin it like no one else could, reputations had been ruined over it. It was part of the reason people stayed away from him. 

“Uhhggg fine” Deceit said, rolling his eyes. “Just remember I’m here if you ever want to get someone into trouble” he continued sinisterly in something that sounded oddly like a promise and a threat all at the same time. 

Virgil loved his friends, but God, were they weird. 

“I think we have enough trouble going on as it is, thank you very much” Virgil said, one eyebrow raised in an expression that said  and _who’s fault is that?_

“Oh you are very much welcome Virgey!” Remus said back brightly, the apple still in his hand. 

“Speaking of fun...” Remus continued.

“We were speaking of trouble”

“Same difference” Remus said back, 

“there’s a beautifully bare wall itching for a new paint job down by the bridge and I am bored out of my mind. So, what do you say to hitting it up tomorrow night?” 

Remus had a very bad (if not extremely fun) habit of using graffiti to quell his boredom, and that meant that the rest of their small group had the same habit. Apparently Deceit had originally gone along to make sure Remus didn’t get arrested, and ended up joining in on the activity. Virgil thought it was therapeutic in a way, at least until the sirens got too close. 

“I thought you wasted all your paint drawing profanity on the mirrors in the bathroom” Deceit replied in Remus’s direction, still angrily eyeing the apple that had once been his. 

“Dissy dear, you underestimate my capacity for mischief. I’m almost hurt that you don’t think I have back up paint” Remus said with fake sadness in his expression. 

“I’m obviously the best prepared of all of you, so I think some gratitude is in order” Remus continued smugly. At this point Remus had thrown his arms out in a “I’m king of the world” style pose and was strutting around in front of them like he owned the place. 

“Best prepared? Tell that to your shoe laces” Virgil quipped before promptly stomping down on one of Remus’s untied shoe laces, causing him to wobble and let out a little surprised screech before he was face down on the concrete. 

Virgil made his way over to the wall that Deceit was still leaning against and kicked his own leg up against it as the two smiled smugly down at their friend, trying to contain their laughter. 

“Brilliant idea of you not to keep those tied like I ask you to Remus” Deceit said sarcastically through a grin. 

“It’s a choice!” Remus said from the ground. 

“A bad one it seems” Virgil said back. 

“Personally I’m rather fond of this outcome. Only proves my point” Deceit replied in a condescending tone. 

“You just like to see me on the ground” Remus said to Deceit, looking up, something dangerous in his gaze. Remus had his arms under his chin, propping his head up so he could properly look at them. 

Deceit’s eyes went wide as a gentle red flush began to pepper his cheeks. He looked like he desperately needed to regain control of this situation. 

“Shut up” the snake practically growled back. 

“Make me” Remus challenged, wiggling his eyebrows in a  _you know what I mean_ gesture.

Virgil gave a fake gag as the bell above them sounded it’s first warning. 

“Oh thank God for school, saves me from your little PDA session” Virgil said gratefully, picking up his bag and slinging it back over his shoulder as he moved to leave. 

“We aren’t dating and you know it!” Deceit voiced, his eyes narrow and threatening. 

“Oh come on Dissy, you love me” Remus said, still laying on the ground, a teasing tone in his voice. 

“You’re a menace” Deceit hissed back at Remus.

“Oh darling I know, but it wouldn’t hurt if you said it again” Remus said darkly will a toothy grin back at his friend. 

“You both are a mess” Virgil said, one hand on the door back into school, letting a smile leak into his voice. 

“Speak for yourself, Doom and Gloom” the viper of the group called back. 

“Oh trust me I am” Virgil replied. 

As Virgil got a step closer to leaving he could see Remus picking himself up off the ground with a sigh. The chaos vessel then threw the some how miraculously still in tact apple back in Deceit’s direction. 

Deceit caught it with ease and examined what had once been his snack.

“What side did you bite off of?” He asked, annoyed. 

“The left” Remus replied, and Deceit moved to take a bite from the right when Remus began to say “but it doesn’t really matter, I licked the teethmarks” he said with a sickening grin.

Deceit stopped dead in his tracks before the Apple even reached his mouth. 

“WHY WOULD YOU-“ 

“To annoy you” Remus practically giggled back, picking up his own bag and making his way towards the door where Virgil was standing. 

Deceit let out what sounded more like a choked screech than the disapproving sigh he’d been going for.

Virgil only laughed and pushed his way through the doors, hearing the remnants of an argument from his friends behind him. 

. . . 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes Virgil didn’t really care about and reminders of what predicament he had gotten himself into with theatre. He was hyper aware of whenever he passed Roman in the hallway, even for just a second, because it reminded him of his utter death sentence. If he could go back in time and bitch slap his past self accordingly for putting his present self in this position, he would with no hesitation. 

By the last bell Virgil was tired, irritated, and completely ready to go home, shove a granola bar in his mouth, and flop down onto his bed, letting the world drift off in a haze of dark music and the smell of fresh sheets. He hurriedly wrestled his pre-calculus book in his bag, scribbled the homework down in red pen on his arm, and rushed out the door. 

The halls were packed with people. There were seniors chatting about their last year, freshman girls taking thinly veiled jabs at each other by the water fountains, sophomores acting like they were the shit, and of course, the usual juniors from his own class moving to extracurriculars or rushing home to try to get through their homework early so they could get a few precious hours of sleep. He rolled his eyes and pulled his headphones on, his hood following suit not long after. Even if the headphones were dead, they still offered up the protection of “don’t talk to me, I’m not listening” that most people could recognize on sight. That was one thing he did appreciate about most high schoolers, unlike teachers, they knew social cues. 

Virgil looked ahead to see some of the less than ideal to run into students up ahead and ducked into the nearest stairway to move to an alternate route. Sure, this way was longer, but it was also safer. 

As he walked down a far more empty rows of dirty identical tile, he came to notice where he actually was. This was the east wing. The east wing was the fine art wing. The east wing was where the auditorium was located. Virgil gave a sigh, of course his treacherous feet and busy mind had lead him through the one passage that also held the thing he specifically wanted to avoid. 

He’d only been in the auditorium a handful of times, once for a mandatory attendance seminar, once when he felt a breakdown coming on and needed a dark place to sit, and once when Remus and Deceit had insisted they relabel all of the switches on the school’s soundboard as a jab at the theatre department. Needless to say, all of those memories were either boring, unpleasant, or downright stressful. When he finally came across the three wide sets of wood doors, he stopped. This was what he’d cursed himself to, 2 whole months of walking through these doors daily for a rehearsal he didn’t want to be at. 

_ Good going Virgil. You made your bed, now you have to lay in it.  _

He was already dreading this just looking at it. There were worse ways to fix a grade, he guessed, but for him this was a very specific type of hell. He looked from the worn surface of the doors to the gap between them, down to where the latch would be. 

Where it  _should_ be. 

But it  _wasn’t_. 

The door was unlocked. 

Virgil took a step forward to look closer, the door truly was unlocked, though no one was supposed to be in there. Sanders had made it clear rehearsal didn’t start until next week, and thus, this place should be bolted. 

_ Maybe... _

Virgil looked to his left and then his right. The few people that had been in the hall with him were gone, and those who were still there were far away and paying no attention. He had the opportunity, may as well look at what he’d gotten himself into. 

He ran his hand over the smooth metal handle and gave a pull. The door swung open, and Virgil wasted no time making his way in. 

The room was large, dark, and empty. Rows upon rows of decade old plush seats were shrouded in shadow, hard to make out in the utter blackness of the room. The only light that was on was a set of dark blue, almost purple lights that cast a deep cool glow onto the mostly black painted stage. 

The room was one that slanted down until it reached the stage, obviously built that way for better line of sight for shows, recitals and the like, and though Virgil could appreciate that, he could not appreciate how in the dark, on that slant, his feet made a purposeful effort to trip him. He quickly abandoned the task of trying to walk blind, and flippled out his phone from his hoodie pocket. Swiping up, he turned on the flashlight and quietly made his way down the walk. He’d intended to be a little more inconspicuous about this, but he figured the screams of pain he may have let out should he trip and break something would be more noticeable than a simple flashlight. 

Looking around, no one else seemed to be in the large room, which was certainly a plus for him. He didn’t know what he’d do if he were caught in here. He was a hooded figure with ripped black jeans and a demeanor that said “I don’t know what I’m doing but it’s probably something I shouldn’t be doing”, being caught in a closed off area wouldn’t exactly be easy for him to explain away. 

He ran his fingers over the faded fabric of the seats as he moved. This place being this empty may have frightened some, but Virgil reveled in it. In a way, the room that was meant for sounds and light was oddly more comforting pitch black and silent. It was almost as if it was peacefully asleep. 

By the time he’d reached the stage the blue toned lights were enough to see where to put his feet, and he flicked off his phone’s flashlight, but didn’t put it away just in case he found he needed it again. He stepped his way up the side stairs as lightly as he could, trying not to disturb the silence and gingerly placed his bag down on the edge of the stage. 

As he looked out, he couldn’t seem to imagine why someone would actually voluntarily choose to act in front of so many people. The empty seats alone started to make him nervous, and he decided that Sanders was right, tech was much more his thing if any of  _this_ had to be his thing at all. 

He stepped out onto the large area used for acting for so many years and did a slow spin as he looked up at the lighting rigs above him. His converse gave a gentle tapping while he walked, marveling at the equipment that he suddenly realized Sanders expected him to control or move. He didn’t have to like it, but he did have to admit, it was all pretty impressive. 

Virgil kept going, moving a little further to the side of the stage to look at the light board mounted to the wall. The air smelled like wood and dust, but he honestly couldn’t say he minded. It was almost pleasant. He gently reached up to graze the many switches that the light board held with the tips of his fingers then- 

“You aren’t supposed to be in here, you know” 

-then Virgil promptly jumped out of his skin. 

He sucked in something that sounded halfway between a gasp and a startled scream, his feet peddling back unintentionally. He dropped into something like a defensive stance as his fight or flight instincts began to flare to life in his mind, his bangs falling low over his eyes as the adrenaline kicked in. Though still a bit disoriented and frankly a little scared, he whipped around to face the threat. 

Quickly he realized it wasn’t a teacher or janitor, but a student. 

A guy about his age. 

A guy about his age who looked shockingly much like someone he knew. 

Standing before him, backed by a halo of blue light, was none other than Roman Prince. 

_Oh for the love of- _

“Oh my GOD. Don’t- don’t sneak up on a person like that, jeeze” Virgil wheezed, still trying to catch his breath from the scare. He leaned over placing his hands down on his knees to brace himself as he looked up to glare at Roman. 

Roman, the boy who turned out to be the source of his sudden panic, seemed to be fairly unfazed by Virgil’s scare, only standing there, a hand on his hip and one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Roman was dressed in colorfully patched blue jeans and a yellow v-neck shirt. His red letterman jacket that Virgil had always seen him wearing was surprisingly missing, which is part of the reason it had taken a minute longer to recognize him than it likely usually would have. Over his shoulder was slung some kind of round duffle bag that bulged out in odd directions, likely holding the aforementioned Letterman jacket. 

Roman looked anything but pleased to see Virgil in the dark auditorium, and Virgil really couldn’t say he himself felt any different. Getting snuck up on in a pitch black, restricted access room by a boy you really didn’t like was obviously less than ideal. 

“May I ask as to what you’re doing in here? This room isn’t considered open until next week” Roman said flatly. His emerald green eyes were anything but friendly as they seemed to want to bore holes into Virgil’s own mismatched gaze. 

Virgil stood up to his full height in an attempt to be a little more intimidating than he felt, however it didn’t help much, considering that Roman was still about a half a head taller than him. Despite this, he couldn’t help but feel challenged, andmore than willing, for once, to meet that challenge. Typically he would have backed out of a situation like this, but something inside him felt like this wasn’t something he wanted to run from. This was something that irritated him in a way he could use. Who was Roman to push him around? 

“I could very well ask you the same question. If no ones supposed to be in here, then why are you?” Virgil shot back at him smugly. Frankly he was a little annoyed at the interruption and a little more than annoyed at the panic Roman had just caused him. 

“Unimportant.” Roman said quickly, dodging the question “I spend a lot of time in here so this isn’t exactly out of the ordinary for me. You, however, do not, making this extremely out of place for you, Emo Nightmare” Roman snarked back. 

“Ouch” Virgil hissed half heartedly “Did you intend that to hurt, Sir-Sing-a-Lot? Cause it didn’t. Besides, I thought they said the theatre was a place for everyone. Who would you be to keep someone out?” Virgil said, trying his best to coolly walk past Roman out towards the stage. On the way, Virgil took a sideways glance at Roman through his bangs. 

Roman looked like he’d had it. 

“It’s a place for people who care” the taller boy snapped. 

“Who says I don’t?” Virgil said back, raising his eyebrows and looking at Roman over his shoulder from his place now in the center of the stage. 

He gave a shrug as he stuck his hands down into his hoodie pockets. Usually he wouldn’t have been so bold as to toy with someone like this where there would be no witnesses should he get attacked, but he knew Roman didn’t have it in him, and it was just too good of an opportunity to give Roman even a small taste of his own, annoying, medicine. This was a confrontation he probably could have avoided, gotten out of at the start, but Virgil guessed maybe there were just those few people you fought with despite the circumstances. 

“If you’re here on some errand from my brother to make me upset, then you can remind him, and yourself, for that matter, to back off and stay out of my business” said Roman, obviously irritated. 

“Oh bold of you to assume Remus sent me. Maybe I’m just enjoying the atmosphere” Virgil continued, looking to the ceiling “or maybe I just like making you mad all on my own accord, Princey” Virgil replied with a smirk. 

“Well then, mission accomplished. You can walk your little skater boy shoes out the door now” Roman snapped “I’m really not in the mood today. I’d appreciate if you and your aversion to anything good and joyous didn’t add to that.” Roman tilted his head with a sneer, crossing his arms over his chest, standing his ground in a motion that said “if either of us are going to leave it’s you.”

“Always the drama queen. Just so you’re aware, so that you don’t try to bust me for vandalism or something, I didn’t actually touch anything. And Remus didn’t send me.” Virgil said, finally turning back around to face a very annoyed Roman.

“Oh Sure, because I’m positive you’re a beacon of truth” Roman said with a scoff. Virgil really couldn’t blame him, he probably wouldn’t have believed himself if given the chance either. 

“Check the board if you’re so skeptical” Virgil replied back, dead-pan. He was a little tired of people not taking him seriously today. 

Roman ran a hand through his chestnut hair, sweeping it out of gaze as he rolled his eyes, readjusted the strap of the duffle on his shoulder, and moved over to the light board. Virgil watched as Roman’s eyes shifted subtly back and forth over the board as if he were reading, checking to make sure everything was still in its proper setting and that no sabotage had taken place. Upon reaching the bottom of the board, Virgil saw Roman’s eyes flick back up to the top to start again, and he gave a single humorless exhale at just how little Roman actually thought of him. 

A few seconds later Roman looked back, glaring like he’d just lost a bet. 

“I’m still not trusting you” 

“What a shock. Also just so you’re aware part two, I may not have touched that board now, but I’ll have to later so you may want to drop the insecurity” Virgil challenged, scrunching up his nose the way he tended to do when he was getting annoyed. 

“Insecurity” Roman huffed quietly, shaking his head with a disbelief “You’ll touch it over my dead body” he continued with what was practically a snarl. 

“Guess they better start planning a funeral then” Virgil said, examining his nails in faux disinterest. “Trust me I don’t want to touch it either but according to Sanders, I have to. Working tech for your stupid little show wasn’t exactly in my plan but now I guess I have no choice, which means unfortunately for both of us, we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. So stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours” Virgil continued. 

“Fine by me, Hot Topic” Roman said tight lipped. 

“Aww you think I’m hot” Virgil replied, grinning coyly and tilting his head down to look at Roman through his lashes. 

That was apparently the last straw. 

“Get out” Roman said dangerously.

Virgil didn’t need to be told twice. He strode steadily over to the edge of the stage and swiftly grabbed his bag from the floor and lifted it to his shoulder. He took a last full look at Roman who still appeared to be trying to burn holes into Virgil with his stare, and vaulted himself off the stage. 

Glancing over his shoulder, the blue light illuminating half his expression, Virgil raised his hand to his face and flicked Roman a two finger salute and a sly grin.

“Gladly. Later, Princey” 

And with that Virgil made his trek up the walk and out of the darkened room. 

. . .

When Virgil finally took a step out the doors and into the light of the sun, he gave off a contented sigh. The school could be a little suffocating sometimes, though some days he didn’t know if that was the school or just him. Either way, he’d been trapped in that place for far too long.

Freedom at last. 

Virgil leaned his head back and took a deep breath in, finally feeling the tension leave his shoulders for the first time all day.

Though a little later in the afternoon, many students were still making their ways to various cars to go home, keeping the parking lot far from empty. Between the soccer moms picking up their freshman, the eligible drivers bolting to their cars, and the large yellow buses waiting patiently for their charges, the parking lot was packed. Across the way in a crowd of people Virgil caught sight of what looked like Deceit and Remus piling into Deceit’s black Toyota Hybrid, likely to go harass a local gas station attendant over slushee prices or scope out the next unfortunate wall to be used as their canvas. Virgil only chuckled and rolled his eyes affectionately, praying that the two didn’t roll up and try to coerce him into going with them. 

He kept his hood pulled up over his head as he made his way down the tan stone stairs one by one until he reached the cracked black asphalt at the bottom that held the bike rack. 

Virgil rode his bike to school whenever he could. He lived close enough that it was a better option than packing himself onto a crowded bus with countless people he hated and air that smelled like old gum and scorched leather. Sometimes it could be a pain, but the majority of time it was almost pleasant. It gave him time to think over things or catch up on a new playlist, and besides, it was pretty nice to listen to the birds in the morning. 

Careful to avoid touching the scorching metal of the bars of the rack, Virgil set to the task of unlocking his inky black bike from its resting place, quickly pulling it free and shoving the lock back in his backpack pocket. 

He slipped his headphones back over his ears and hit play on his phone, which started up his usual playlist. He was very glad he’d remembered to grab his charger from Deceit before they parted ways and before Deceit inevitably lent it to Remus, and Remus inevitably lost it. He didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t have his music for the ride home.

Though it was still mid January, the Florida air was warm enough that he had stripped off his jacket for the trip, leaving him in a purposefully ripped purple long sleeve shirt. Sometimes he envied places that got the actual winter festivities, like snow and weather that got below 55 degrees on a good day, but on days like today, he was glad their winters meant comfortable rides home with no snow and no freezing temperatures. 

Virgil climbed onto his bike and set off. The music blasting through his headphones was a comfort, but still not enough to fully block out how bad a day this had been. Sure, maybe getting Roman mad in the auditorium was fun, but he’d never have been in that auditorium in the first place if he hadn’t been assigned to the Musical. 

He thought he was the punching bag for people before, this was only going to make it worse. Virgil tried to stay out of the limelight as much as possible, after all, the more you stay out of the sun, the less likely you are to get burned. Fading back into the shadows quietly was kinda his thing, but now he was basically wearing the fluorescent orange vest of “hit me! I’m a theatre kid!”

Oh Great, now he was even referring to himself as a theatre kid. What was going on? 

He did not want to be tagged in with the theatre kid crowd, with  Roman’s crowd. 

Virgil and Roman did not get along. 

At all. 

After meeting in Mr. Sanders English class sophomore year and working on one project together, they decided they couldn’t stand each other. Their project had been a presentation of a scene from classic Shakespeare, and as one might be able to guess, they had very different ideas of how the relatively simple assignment should be done. That project ended in a lot of screaming and eventual mutual hatred for both of them, well, that and a C+ on something they easily could have gotten an A on if they hadn’t started bickering in Shakespearian English halfway through the scene. 

So of course, it would be just his luck that Mr. Sanders would decide they should give their partnership another shot. 

That man was far too “glass half full” for his own good. 

After crossing several streets and cutting through a back alley or two, Virgil was home, rolling his bike into the garage and propping it up against the concrete wall. He made his way to the door, readjusting his backpack strap, and fumbled his house key out of his pocket. 

Finally he was home. Finally today was over. 

Virgil took the opportunity to toe off his converse one by one, leaving his socked feet free to roam the kitchen tile. After making his way to the cabinet to grab the granola bar he’d been looking forward to for a good portion of the day, he quietly walked his way down the hall and to the stares, only stopping briefly to wave a quick “hello” to his mother in her office on a conference call for work. 

He took the stairs two at a time and got to his room more quickly than absolutely necessary, before shutting the door behind him. Almost instantly he dropped his bag from his arm with a sigh and flopped face first onto his bed, only moving to make an effort not to crush his headphones between himself and his sheets. 

Four songs and a granola bar later, Virgil had stripped off his day clothes in favor of sweatpants and a black and white striped pajama shirt featuring a picture of a cat and the words “how do you like me-ow” in bold print on the front. He raised his arms above his head in a stretch before closing his eyes and taking a breath. 

_ Tomorrow will be a better day. _

_ Please let tomorrow be a better day.  _

And with that thought, Virgil let himself drift off to sleep with MCR playing quietly through his headphones and the winter afternoon sun shining through his window screen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all I forgot to mention, all of the main characters are Juniors in High School (mostly cause I am too, and I know how we Juniors operate). It was implied they are Juniors in this chapter, but I thought I would confirm. That makes all of them about seventeen years old.  
> (Insert Heathers reference here lol)  
> Their class schedule is also block based (because that is how mine is) which means instead of having 7 or 8 short classes in a day, they have 4 long ones. I just used it cause I know how it works, and it makes it easier for me having to keep track of what classes they are in when.  
> Thanks for reading guys!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which history class gets more interesting.

_ Beep beep beep beep be - _

6:00Am came far too early. 

Far too early was an understatement. 

Downright untimely was more like it. 

After his nap yesterday evening, Virgil had awoken to a dark sky and the unfortunate news that he’d missed dinner. The night had obviously only gone downhill from there. 

Homework had taken hours, and, as he discovered, was somehow even less fun to do at 2:37 in the morning.

Though he was a night owl by nature, Virgil hated being up for reasons that weren’t his own. It always seemed far harder to stay awake when writing an essay for Chem on the ozone layer (as terrifying as it’s destruction may be) than when doing a four and a half hour binge on conspiracy theories at an hour no reasonable person should be awake at. The special ability to be nocturnal apparently applied only to non-productive activities, which automatically made Virgil resent it just that little bit more. 

Virgil cracked his eyes open to his alarm blaring it’s first warning of the morning at a volume that should not have been physically legal. The sound made his head ache and every part of him resent the day he was born. He shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes hoping it would make the beeping stop, or at least blind him and give him a reason to stay home. Despite his efforts, however, it regrettably did neither of those things. When he opened his eyes the dim outline of his room was still just as clear as it had been before. 

Fuck.

Virgil rolled over with a groan, tangling himself further down into his warm ebony sheets as he pawed uselessly at his phone, trying to stop its infernal cacophony of beeps. After a few seconds, it shut up, and Virgil closed his eyes again, only to reopen them when the beeping started back up what felt like mere seconds later.

He finally surrendered, relinquishing the battle of sleep to his alarm, picked up the phone, unplugged it from its charger, and read the time. 

6:17

Double fuck.

Virgil’s head shot off the pillow in a slight panic. He was running late. 

Instantly he threw his covers off and whined through his teeth at the shock of cold air that hit him as he vaulted himself out of bed. He’d slept nearly 20 minutes extra by accident and not even known it. How did that even happen? 

At this point how it happened really didn’t matter, but the fact that it happened did. 

Yanking a fresh set of clothes from his closet, Virgil scurried out of his room and into the bathroom, closing the door with a thud and yanking the shower handle up until a sharp spray of water shot out the head. 

When he jumped in, the water was still frigid.

So much for a good day.

Ten minutes of very unpleasantly cold water later, Virgil was running his fingers through his damp hair, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth while he forced his legs into a pair of pants, which was admittedly a lot harder when those pants were ripped, and his toes kept getting stuck on every gap. Finally claiming victory over his clothes, he quickly made his way back into his room and set about attempting to seem like he had his shit together. The boy in black pushed his books haphazardly off his desk and into his bag, shoving last night’s homework into various folders and attempting to brush his teeth all at the same time. Yanking his headphones off his bedside table, he settled them in their familiar position around his neck and made his way back to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out of his mouth. Virgil washed the remnants of the paste down the drain and looked up at himself in the mirror. 

He looked exhausted. 

He looked stressed out.

Frankly he looked like shit, but he guessed that was just the way life went sometimes.

The black nail polish on his fingers was chipped and scuffed, a sure sign he hadn’t redone it in over a week, and really didn’t have the patience too. As much as he loved the look, taking the time to actually perfect every nail was excruciating. Under his eyes hung a pair of matching dark circles, but there was nothing he really could do about those either. They were there so often they might as well be tattooed on his face. Virgil looked down to the drawers under the sink and tugged one open, pulling out a smooth black compact covered in scratched gold lettering and a thin brush. He clicked the compact open to reveal a pallet of jet black eyeshadow and a tiny scuffed mirror. A circle was worn deep into the middle of the ink colored powder where the brush had traced its path day after day, an attempt to make the exhaustion look intentional. Concealer had stopped being enough to cover the circles years ago, and Vigil had just given up. He decided it was better to double down on the look than to try half heartedly to cover it up, and at some point he’d become rather fond of the dark makeup. It suited him. 

He quickly brushed a few layers under each eye and returned the compact to its usual position, before returning to his room and clipping a dark choker into place around his neck. 

With his emo armor officially in place, Virgil threw his hoodie over his shoulders, grabbed his bag, and bounded down the stairs, nearly tripping on the last one.

He ducked his way through the kitchen on socked feet and snuck a hand by his mother, who was standing in front of the toaster, to grab a piece of golden brown bread from the toaster’s slots. 

“Good morning to you too” Virgil’s mother said with a chuckle. 

Virgil’s mom was really nothing like him. She was tall, strawberry-blond, outgoing, determined, and kind beyond reason. She had a smattering of freckles over her nose and looked a little like she belonged in a movie, not a kitchen. The only real resemblance they shared was the way they laughed and their mutual weakness for chocolate ice cream and cheesy TV Rom-coms. Sometimes he wondered how they could even be related. She was sunshine and he was a storm cloud. Sometimes he even felt bad she’d gotten saddled with him as a son, but the more selfish part of him was glad that it was her and no one else. 

“Running late” Virgil said through a mouthful of toast, shoving his feet into his green and purple mismatched converse “have to go now if I want to make class relatively close to on time”

“Relatively close to on time, oh how devoted you are to your studies” his mother said with a smile, shaking her head lightly while leaning back into the counter and crossing her arms. 

“Well what can I say, I try” Said Virgil with a small grin that matched hers, “By the way, I have a shift today after school at the shelter, I won’t be home until later” he continued, voice muffled through his chewing as he moved a hand to the door knob. 

“Don’t worry” she replied back “I think I can manage holding down the fort while you’re gone” 

He was wrong, they also had sass in common.

For as long as Vigil could remember it’d just been the two of them. As the story seemed to go, she’d gotten pregnant halfway into college by accident, and her boyfriend hadn’t exactly taken it well. He’d taken off, never to be seen again and left her with tiny baby Virgil. Apparently she’d worked her way through school, got a job, stopped trying to contact Virgil’s deadbeat of a father and that’s how they’d gotten here. Virgil always suspected there was more to that story, but she always seemed a little uncomfortable talking about it, so he didn’t push. They were them, and that was enough. They were really all each other had in this messed up world, and really, though it got messy, Virgil really couldn’t have asked for a better mother. He had to admit, he was a mama’s boy. 

“Good to know you’ve got it covered, General” Virgil said with a quick salute as he moved to leave.

“Locked and loaded lieutenant” she replied through a grin, picking up her coffee cup and saluting back. 

Virgil pulled the door open with a creek of the hinges and moved to leave as he finished off the last remaining bites of his toast.

“Virgil!” His mother’s voice called over his shoulder. He turned back, his mismatched green and almost violet eyes meeting her steady hazel gaze. 

“Yeah?” He replied in acknowledgement, stepping one foot back inside the house so he could listen.

“Have a good day” she said evenly. Her expression held something soft, warm with care and flecked with concern. 

Virgil only scoffed a little in response, though the small melancholy grin didn’t leave his face.  “Not likely”

He appreciated the sentiment, but completely good days really didn’t exist for him. 

“ _Try_ to have a good day” she countered, rolling her eyes affectionately, something determinedly hopeful in the look she gave him. 

“Now those are more fair marching orders” he said smirking back at her. 

Coffee cup still in hand, she made her way over to Virgil, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to pull him close and pressing a firm kiss to the top of his head before ruffling his hair. Virgil gave an annoyed hiss as he ran a hand through the still damp strands in an attempt to smooth them back into place. 

“I love you, little shadow. Now, go make your class relatively on time” she said, releasing him and taking a sip from her coffee as she stepped back to make her way down the hall. 

“Relatively less on time now” he replied under his breath, though despite the gesture it was still edged with amusement.

“I heard that! Watch yourself!” His mother called back from down the hall lightly with a chuckle.

“What was that? Couldn’t hear you already leaving!” He called back, and with that, bag in hand and a little less hateful, he wrenched his bike up from the wall and started the rest of his day. 

. . . 

He had, in fact, made first period somewhat close to on time. He was panting from the exertion of having sprinted through the hall and still just barely squeaked in, but he’d made it nonetheless. 

Slipping into his usual seat next to his friends, the morning wasn’t exactly made more palatable. Immediately Deceit had chastised him for cutting it so close and somehow still looking like he’d just crawled out of the depths of the shadow realm, and Remus had made a dirty joke about how hard he was breathing. 

After being told to shush and then promptly being handed a pop quiz by their absolute vulture of a teacher, the day hadn’t exactly stepped up its game. 

Class passed by in a boring heap of facts and figures Virgil really didn’t care about, but still took notes on anyway. Between new found reason to keep grades up and the inevitable fact that Remus would likely need them to cram study later, he figured it was better to take them than not. The boring stream of information on differing types of ionic bonds was made slightly more interesting by whispers and whistles from Deceit and Remus next to him. Deceit told them in hushed hisses about the most recent of school news, that, though Virgil really didn’t know many of the people they were discussing, was interesting none the less. Remus quipped back endlessly, despite razor sharp glares from their teacher, while drawing obscene things in the margins of his own messy notebook, which practically contained no actual notes. 

When class was finally done, they all shuffled collectively out of their stiff chairs one by one and made their way to the hall. Deceit and Remus stood shoulder to shoulder, thankfully edging their way through the crowd for Virgil who stood slightly behind at the point of their tiny triangle. That was the routine they tended to fall into, luckily enough for Virgil, his two friends didn’t mind being a forcefield for him, heck, they even reveled in the fear they caused others as they happily chatted amongst themselves. 

Virgil could tell Deceit was trying to tell him something, but really he wasn’t listening. His next class was US History, in which he had doomed himself to a miserable existence of sitting next to Roman and more than likely, a few others. What had started as irritation was slowly twisting and writhing into the familiar pool of anxiety curling in his stomach, flaring alarm bells sounding in his head.

What if they all hated him? He already knew Roman did, but that was mutual so he didn’t much care about that. But the others? Hell no. His “I don’t give a shit” attitude only protected him if he could convince himself he truly didn’t, but his confidence was slowly waning. If they all hated him, how bad would life get? Would they attack him? Harass him? Sabotage him?He didn’t know. His head spiraled through scenarios, most of them ending in some variation of his humiliation. He guessed he could get Deceit to back him up, maybe Remus to beat someone up if it came to that. He knew they would be there for him. He hated when they had to play body guard for him though, it made him feel small, useless, like he couldn’t be his own person, so usually he just sat and took it, despite the fact they would have his back. 

Ahead of him, Deceit was telling some sort of story. Virgil only half tuned in. 

“... so Adam from 2b is obviously trying to fuck me-“ Deceit said flatly. 

“Who wouldn’t be trying to, snakey?” Remus interjected with a shit eating grin, running his eyes over Deceit’s body in an effort to make a point.

Deceit rolled his yellow eyes, the only evidence of the comment being the edged tone his voice took on and the barely noticeable flush blooming on his cheeks. 

“So as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by-“ Deceit said, yet again being cut off by their spastic friend. 

“By your very hot best friend” Remus said, finishing Deceits sentence with words the boy in the beanie likely wouldn’t have used. 

“I. WAS. SAYING.” Deceit punctuated, continuing his story with narrowed eyes “that I said I would only blow him if he got some dirt for me on- Virgil! Are you even paying attention?” He said, looking at Virgil over his shoulder, who jumped at the abrupt call of his name. 

“Huh? Wha-what am I missing? Something about someone trying to get in your pants?” Virgil said a little startled. Really he hadn’t been paying attention, too lost in his own thoughts. He used the small bits of information he did have to fill in the gaps.

“That literally describes half the conversations we have on a normal basis, so obviously you weren’t paying attention to specifics” Deceit hissed, turning his head back towards their path, and moving over some so Virgil could wedge into the gap between him and Remus. 

Really it was a pretty common topic amongst their group, so it hadn’t been much of a stretch for Virgil to say it. Deceit was hot, and Virgil had no qualms platonically admitting it. The snake had interesting features that seemed to draw people in, yellow eyes, and the subtle birthmark that framed half his face made him stand out in the best of ways, his bad boy charisma and fashionable style only adding to his dangerous charm. As Virgil saw it, many found the danger alluring, at least until they got a taste. Deceit reveled in the attention and it’s... various benefits... though no suitor of Deceit’s ever stayed around for long. 

“Sorry I wasn’t keeping track of your varying sex life, I’m a little pre-occupied mentally preparing myself to run the gauntlet of stupid” Virgil said back, an irritated huff escaping his lips. 

“Ohhhh first history class sitting next to my hallmark card of a brother?” Remus questioned, knocking Virgil in the arm with his elbow and readjusting his jacket.

“Hallmark card?” Deceit inquired, looking past Virgil to make eye contact with the chaotic boy, who stared back with a smirk, raising a single eyebrow.

“He’s stupid and frivolous but people seem to like him” Remus replied, seeming to have little to no regard for the feelings of his twin.

“Oh”

“Harsh but accurate” Virgil snorted out. 

“My condolences, Virgil, on your utter failure to wiggle your way out of this mess” Deceit drawled in a tone that was nothing but sarcasm. 

“Wow, thanks Dee. You couldn’t have been more sincere if you had bought me a greeting card” Virgil deadpanned as he looked annoyedly at the boy in question. 

“Well consider yourself lucky it’s history and not PE like Remus and I have to suffer through. Straight boys really need to calm down and stop trying to replace each other’s heads with dodge balls” Deceit scoffed, examining his nails.

“I don’t mind!” Remus practically sparked “Gives me an excuse to hit the overzealous ones in the balls with a projectile! It’s fun to watch them writhe in pain on the floor as they beg God for mercy” he continued, a maniac glint in his wide joyous eyes.

Virgil took a step a little closer to Deceit with a wince. “You scare me sometimes” 

“Awww thank you!” Remus smiled cheerfully back.

“At least I have locker room gossip to keep me satiated” Deceit relented with indifference. 

“The view in there isn’t half bad either” Remus said, his smile turning a little sinister.

“Pervert.” The viper shot back.

“Your fault for being so hot” Remus replied as he picked up his pace a little. 

“Wait, you were talking about me!?” Deceit practically screeched. For a boy with a very diverse intimate history, he sure was easy to fluster. Or maybe that was just Remus.

“And that’s my cue to leave. Have fun with dodgeball, boys” Virgil said, waving off his friends and being promptly flipped off by Deceit in return, before ducking into the history classroom. 

The room in question was still fairly empty. Mr. Sanders was sitting at his desk and there were a few students trickling in through the door, but not many. 

Certainly not the one he was dreading seeing at least. 

“New seating chart is up on the board guys! Please find your new seats, and try to be civil with your desk-mates” their teacher called out, and Virgil had a feeling he had added that last part just for him.

He was a little surprised to see the desks in the same configuration they had been in before the new seating chart, pulled up into little groups of four desks to a section, all of them facing each other. Virgil looked up to the board and then shot a pleading glance back at his old, shadowy, desk. 

_ I will miss you dear friend, you served me well. Remember me when I inevitably drop dead from embarrassment _ , he thought at the desk, before glancing back to the board and scouring it for his name. 

After two passes over the chart, he finally found it, located at a clump of desks near the front of the room. He didn’t even bother looking at who was sitting near him, seeing Roman’s name was enough to give him a general idea how well the rest of the year was going to go.

Taking up his spot at his desk, Virgil pulled his phone from his pocket and began to scroll aimlessly through Tumblr, distracting himself as best he could from the current situation. 

“Excuse me, but I believe you’re in my seat” Said a smug voice from above him, and Virgil hardly even needed to look up to tell who it was. 

“Hello, Princey. I would do the polite thing and ask how you’re doing, but I honestly cannot find it in myself to care.” Virgil replied, uninterested. Unfortunately for him, this seat had previously been Roman’s, so lucky for Roman, he didn’t have to move far, but for him it meant being the one to slightly inconvenience the boy in the letterman. And that meant talking. 

“Move and we’ll call it even” Roman spat back with a pinched grin. 

“No can do, Red. I find I’m quite comfortable here” Virgil said, finally meeting the boy standing over him’s green eyes. Roman had one hand pressed down on the desk next to Virgil and one hand clutching the strap of his messenger bag, the muscles in both hands tense with irritation. Though Roman was still standing, he was leaned over so that the two were practically fighting on the same level. 

“Well, I’m sure you can find yourself just as comfortable in your usual shadowy spot, so if you wouldn’t mind-“ 

“Oh trust me, I would love to not be right here right now but unfortunately for both of us I don’t have that choice. New seating chart, dimwit. Check the board” Virgil replied pointedly. 

Roman stood straight, rolling his eyes at the smaller boy before turning back the board and scouring it for his name. Virgil watched as his eyes landed on their names directly next to each other and as the blood seemed to drain out of Roman’s face. 

Roman let out a curse under his breath. 

“Yeah. Unfortunately for the both of us, I’m stuck here. So get off your high horse, and deal with it” Virgil snapped out, leaning back in his chair and looking back down at his phone.

Roman whipped around and when Virgil glanced up he saw how his eyes burned. 

“I’ll get off my high horse when you stop being an ass” Roman hissed. 

“I’ll stop being an ass when you stop being a pain in mine” Virgil growled in return, venom evident in his tone. 

“I-“ 

“Well this is certainly peculiar” 

Virgil and Roman both looked up to see a boy in a dark grey and red Marvel shirt enter through the open classroom door and approach them. He was almost as tall as Roman, with dark hair and an air of calm indifference about him. A pair of sharp edged glasses sat in front of his dark blue eyes and a matching plaid blue shirt layered on top of his regular one. 

“Ah, Logan, salutations. You’re just on time to observe the massive handicap we’ve just been assigned” Roman said, shooting a Virgil a glare from the side of his eye. 

Logan. So that was his name. Good to know. 

“I’m literally right here” replied Virgil with crossed arms.

“Oh don’t I know it” the boy in the letterman hissed. 

“Well I do try to be punctual” continued Logan, “I do not, however, have any idea to which assignment you’re referring. I thought last night’s work was fairly self explanatory and class doesn’t begin for another three and a half minutes so there is no logical way we could have been given a new assignment yet. I take it I am meant to assume by your current positions and the state of the board that we have a new seating chart?” 

“Yes. And that would be the exact handicap to which I am referring” Roman said, eyes still locked on Virgil, as if pinning him to the spot. 

“Again, right here” he pointed out. 

Logan looked around flicking his eyes to the board before looking back down and placing his rather large backpack on the seat directly opposite Virgil’s.

“It appears I am to be occupying this seat until further notice-“ Logan started to say, before quickly being cut off by a bright, rather breathless voice from the door.

_More people, great._

Virgil made a point of trying to sink out of sight. 

“I’m here! I’m here! What did I miss?” Said the new voice, which seemed to belong to a boy in sky blue who came to stand beside Logan, who greeted him and continued on. 

“Patton, good of you to join us, we have a new seating chart and-“ 

“Oh really? That’s great! Is this your spot? Where am I?” Said the newcomer, who’s name was evidently Patton, looking around.

While Logan came off as stoic and calculating, Patton looked like he practically sparked with positivity. He was a fair amount shorter than Logan, with light brown hair that fluffed out in various directions and bright blue eyes hidden behind his own pair of glasses, large and circular this time. Around his waist was tied a grey cardigan, concealing the bottom half of his shirt, which like Logan’s, matched his eyes in color. 

“You’re-“ 

“I’m not entirely sure, Padre, but I do hope you aren’t far. If I have to sit next to Doom and Gloom here for the rest of the year, I would hope I have your sunny demeanor to counteract his spite” Roman said with a huff, placing his bag on his desk and propping his head up on his hand as he sat down. 

“Oh now you’re just being purposefully rude” Virgil said leaning the opposite direction from Roman. 

“How do I know where I’m sitting?” Patton asked lightly.

Logan was the one who opened his mouth to answer, “The chart but I already-“ 

“Well purposefully rude is better than unintentionally looking like you’ve jumped straight out of r/I’m fourteen and this is deep” Roman taunted.

Virgil slammed a hand down on his desk, causing it to shake and multiple heads to turn his way.

“You want to go, Princey? Cause I will not hesitate to-“ 

“EXCUSE ME.” Logan called loudly, quickly shutting the rest of them up. 

“If you’re all quite finished, I was trying to say that, Patton, you’re in the spot next to me” Logan continued, readjusting his glasses. 

“Aw sweet! This is seat-sational!” Patton grinned, taking his seat next to Logan who had also moved to sit down. 

“Padre, please don’t start with the-“ Roman said, looking at Patton with pleading eyes. 

“You know with us all being in the same spot I guess you could say this is...” 

“Patton, as much as I appreciate your uplifting nature I would ask you to refrain from-“ Logan started, two fingers clutching the bridge of his nose, already knowing what was coming. 

“Chair-rific!” Patton giggled out. 

“And there it is” 

“Oh come on Roman don’t be desk-couraged! It’s only a pun” Patton continued, tilting his head and looking at Roman with wide innocent eyes.

Virgil gave off a sound somewhere between a sharp exhale and a laugh, a small smile edging its way onto his face. 

“Oh, hello!” Patton said, finally acknowledging his presence “I don’t believe we’ve met” 

“I don’t believe we have” Virgil replied “but anyone who puns that well I consider an ally in my book” 

Patton beamed back at him, and Virgil chuckled. 

The bell began to blare in their ears as Mr. Sanders rose from his desk and made his was to the front of the room to address his students. Many people were still chatting idly among themselves, but the noise died down as Sanders cleared his throat to get their attention. 

“Alrighty everyone! Good morning to you all. As you have likely noticed, there is a new seating chart. If you weren’t able to find your spot, I’m leaving the chart up for the rest of class so you can” their teacher said with a bright smile “if any of you have problems with your desk groups please let me know.”

Virgil and Roman cast simultaneous glances at each other and Virgil silently considered raising his hand, but the attention it would call to him was far less desirable than just dealing with it. Besides, this seat change was almost certainly because of him, it wouldn’t make any difference. 

“So, since we all are in different spots and with different people, I would like to spend the first half of this period with you all getting to know each other. I know some of you do already, but for those who don’t, please try to. Who knows, you might make a new best friend”

_Unlikely_ Virgil thought to himself, head resting on his arms. 

“I’ll give you further instructions after, but for now, talk it up guys! This is the one class where you get to talk about whatever you want. Take advantage of it!”

Mr. Sanders concluded, giving them the go ahead to talk before heading back to his desk. 

Virgil looked back at the three other people sitting at his desk group to see all of them simply staring at each other, wordless. 

Patton was the first to speak. 

“Most of us know each other, but do you guys want to do introductions anyway? I don’t think any of us really know you yet” he said, gesturing to Virgil, who was still sitting quietly, avoiding attention.

“Introductions would be productive, I believe. That would align with the directions to ‘get to know each other’ so I have no problems with proceeding that way” Logan continued, folding his hands in front of him in a professionally, 

“I know Patton and Roman, Patton knows Roman and I. Do you and Roman know each other?” 

Both Roman and Virgil responded in a split second, talking over each other as they did.

“No”

“Yes” 

The two in question made eye contact with each other and tried again.

“Yes”

“No” 

Apparently they didn’t try hard enough. 

“Ok kiddos, bear with me, but I’m a little confused here” said Patton, puzzled.

Logan looked at both of them and readjusted his glasses as if to study them like specimens in a Petri dish. 

“I’m going to presume you do know each other, then. There would be no reason to give opposite answers if you didn’t, in fact, know each other in some way. Judging by the fact that you two have been taking jabs at each other since Patton and I entered the room, I’m going to take it your history with each other is less than desirable. So, that being said, which one of you killed someone and which one helped the other hide the body?” Logan said, surprisingly even-toned for someone who had just implied he and the boy he despised were secret partners in crime. 

Virgil’s eyes went a little wide as he recoiled, a tad shocked that this boy he just met was accusing them of murder of all things. Next to him, Roman only groaned. 

“Tone it down detective” Roman said with an eye roll “You’ve been watching far too much Sherlock for your own good. Trust me when I say Virgil and I are hardly even acquaintances let alone body hiding partners” 

“Body hiding bros would have been better alliteration” Virgil mumbled back, almost under his breath. Roman narrowed his eyes at him. 

“So, Virgil? That’s your name?” Questioned Patton. 

Virgil turned his gaze to the boy sitting diagonal from him and gave him a quick nod. 

“Well then, if we are doing introductions I can start! Hi Virgil, my name is Patton Foster, but you can call me dad if you want! I’m kinda the parent friend so don’t mind if I call you kiddo. Unless you don’t like kiddo. I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I can always call you something else if that would be preferable-“ 

“Padre, stay on track” Roman interjected.

“Oh right, yeah, I was rambling” said Patton brightly “anyway, I’m a cheerleader. I like cookies. I like puns. I don’t like spiders. And I hope to get to know you better!” Patton finished. 

The speed with which Patton spoke was impressive. He was just so... upbeat. Virgil wondered how anyone could possibly be that positive at a school of all places, but he couldn’t say he was complaining. Patton seemed nice enough, maybe there was one person at this table he could get along with. 

“I was not made aware we were going into such detail” said the other glasses wearing boy “It appears I will have to go off book. I’m Logan Berry, no, my name is not a pun, and I expect it will not be used as such. You will refer to me as Logan. My hobbies include my studies and the academic team. I enjoy Crofters Jam, a select few television programs, and most feelings are the bane of my very existence, so if you would refrain from having me emote senselessly, I would appreciate it. To answer an ever prevalent question, no, I will not let you copy my homework.” He finished matter of factly. 

Logan was straight to the point, cold, and less than sociable. 

Virgil liked him already. 

“Wasn’t going to ask, but appreciate the heads up, Logan” Virgil said.

Logan gave a nod of acknowledgement back, seemingly glad to have not been called a nickname. 

“Thank you, Nerdy Wolverine” said Roman, who quickly received a glare from Logan, “I believe it’s my turn. The name is Roman Prince, don’t wear it out. Obviously I’m the brightest star in the room, so you should already know that. My pride and joy is being a thespian, but I’m also a soccer player, choir member, dancer, a dabbler in art, archer-“ 

“Pretentious diva” Virgil cut in.

“Going to pretend I didn’t hear that” Roman continued “and an utter romantic at heart. There, I’m done. Your turn, Doctor Doom” he said finally casting his eyes back towards Virgil.

For a split second Virgil didn’t know what to say. Everyone else had something interesting or over the top to say at least. 

Everyone else was interesting, and he was just, well, Virgil.

“Ok... hi. I’m Virgil Nox. I transferred to this school last year, and there isn’t really much about me to tell” 

“Aww common Virgil!” Patton jumped in “There has to be something. Whats a thing you enjoy, or your favorite color or something like that?” 

“I like writing... and purple” 

“That’s really sweet! I like purple too, though light blue fits my complexion better. You seem cool. I think we’re friends already, kiddo, glad you’re here!” Said Patton with an overly bright smile.

Friends? They were friends? Is this how you were supposed to make friends? 

Virgil felt his face warm as blood rushed to his cheeks. No one ever thought he was cool. No one was really ever this nice to him. It was kinda overwhelming.

“Oh... um thanks that’s... nice. I-“ Virgil began to stutter out, brushing his bangs out of his eyes for the first time all morning. Suddenly, he was cut off by a gasp from Patton.

“What? What is it?” He said quickly, his eyes shooting up to meet Patton’s stare. Patton was looking back at him with a wide, wonder filled gaze.

Virgil did not like that look at all.

“Your eyes!” said Patton, who was excitedly looking back at him.

“What about- oh shit” Replied Virgil quickly, trying to sweep his bangs back over his face.

“Language” Logan lectured, but none of them really seemed to care.

“They’re different colors!” Said Patton brightly, still looking at him in that starry eyed way. 

Virgil curled in on himself a bit. He really didn’t want this to be all about the one weird part of him he couldn’t change. 

“Yeah but I don’t really like to-“ he started to say, but was promptly cut off.

“That’s awesome! They’re awesome!” Patton squeaked, the grin he was wearing never leaving his face. 

“They are?” Asked Virgil. 

_Awesome? Well that’s a first_.

“You just keep getting weirder and weirder Emo” Roman huffed from beside him while looking disinterestedly at his nails.

Patton shot Roman a glance that looked far too much like a warning. Virgil was almost surprised the puff ball could conjure up an expression so steely. Roman met Patton’s eyes and the disinterested look he had been wearing turned sheepish as began to back peddle. 

“I mean... unique” Roman covered, looking back at Patton who looked a little more satisfied.

“Incredible” said Logan, leaning forward, “Complete heterochromia iridium. I’ve read about it, but never actual seen it in person before.” Logan was leaning over his desk at this point, a hand tilting Virgil’s chin upward so that he could examine Virgil’s odd eye color better. 

Virgil tensed but didn’t pull back, he didn’t want to offend anyone, but at the same time this was extremely weird. 

“Lo?” Patton questioned, something in his tone telling Logan to back off.

Logan seemed to snap back to his body in an instant, realizing what he was doing and removing his hand.

“Oh right. My apologies, sometimes I forget people don’t like to be studied without warning” Logan said, though there was very little actual remorse in his voice.

“Yeah. Don’t...don’t do that. Again. Ever. Thanks.” Said Virgil, who was a bit weirded out. 

Logan gave a nod before turning to Roman.

“I am amazed, however, that you of all people, Roman, didn’t notice prior to now. With all the getting in each other’s faces you seem to do, I would have thought you would have observed that particular trait earlier. Then again you weren’t always the brightest so maybe that makes sense” 

The most scientific sounding of the four continued. 

Virgil have a snort of a laugh and quickly had to cover his mouth to keep from making a scene. Logan was a bit strange, but the boy was nothing if not straight forward. That was especially advantageous when his blunt attitude seemed to be pointed towards Virgil’s current enemy.

Roman scoffed and recoiled as if that was the most offensive thing anyone had ever said to him, when Virgil knew for a fact, it was definitely not. He himself had called Roman far worse.

“Harsh coming from someone who didn’t know grabbing someone’s face was socially unacceptable, calculator watch” Roman shot back.

“It’s portable and convenient, you take that back, Prince” Logan hissed, showing the most emotion he had all day about a watch of all things. 

“Also, it’s not exactly my fault Virgil makes an effort of keeping his bangs so low over his eyes they may as well be a mask” Roman said leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. 

“Roman!” Patton scolded, casting an apologetic look at Virgil.

“What?” Roman replied, aloof.

“Virgil, why are your bangs usually over your eyes?” Patton said, trying to diffuse the situation.

“Most people don’t really think they’re that cool. Most think their weird. They don’t exactly do me many favors when it comes to fitting in. I’d just rather keep my hair over my eyes than be called mismatch my entire life” Said Virgil with a shrug. 

Virgil’s eyes had been a point of contention his entire life. Ever since he was little, kids had always picked on him for it. One of his eyes was a vibrant green, while it’s match was a shade closer to violet than any other on the color wheel. His mother had always said she found his eye color beautiful, but others were not as inclined to agree. 

“Well that’s just illogical.” Logan cut in “It’s not like your eye color has anything to do with your personality.”

Patton had a soft look in his eyes when he looked back at Virgil, as if he was saying he was sorry.

“Kiddo, we don’t care about your eye color. We’re just happy to meet you! Not your eyes. Though they are pretty-“

“Padre don’t you dare”

“Specs-tacular!” Patton finished.

“Oh dear God. Maybe I spoke too soon. Someone please get him away from me” Roman groaned putting his head in his arms.

“Oh Roman, as much as you complain I know you sclera-bout me” the boy in light blue giggled.

“Oh I see what you did there” Virgil chuckled.

“Don’t you mean EYE _see_ what you did there?” Patton questioned as both Logan and Roman gave loud displeased sighs. 

Virgil only gave him a small smile and chuckled along with Patton. 

Maybe this would be a little more interesting than awful after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter threeeeeee was an oooooooof to write.  
> I love writing Logan and Deceit because Deceit is just so sassy and I find it so funny to write Logan with all his big words.  
> Anyway, I put up these first three chapters all at one time so I could have a foundation to work off of. I’m really excited about this series, so it should be updated fairly regularly. When I say regular, I don’t mean weekly, I mean more like I won’t be leaving you guys hanging for months at a time without warning. However, you should know I am in school and there are things that will take priority.  
> Thanks so much for reading and the support!  
> 💜❤️


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Virgil goes to work and is the precious baby we know him to be. Also, there’s advice given. Double also, there are cats involved.  
> (Just so y’all know, my writing style is really long winded, so please do bear with me here. I promise you stuff is actually going to start to happen soon. [can you put brackets inside of brackets? Fuck it, I’m doing it. I’m a mess. It’s late. I’m sorry for whatever this is. Please don’t leave me :,)])

“And then he said, and I quote ‘purposefully rude is better than unintentionally looking like you’ve jumped straight out of r/I’m fourteen and this is deep’”

_Mrrrrreow!_

“I know right! What a total prick. You don’t just compare someone to a black hole of cringe and angst like that”, Virgil huffed in a fit of fading frustration.

In response to his apparent anguish, the brown tabby cat next to him only pushed her face harder against his hand, her body beginning to rumble with a trill of soft purrs as she further requested to be petted. For all of the bitterness and spite he had outwardly portrayed today, he had to admit, that was incredibly cute.

It was early evening, the air had chilled outside, and the sun was already casting the first of the last rays of rapidly dying light through the windows. Sunsets always came a bit earlier in the winter, which, frankly, was anything but bad. He just hoped he could get outside to see it before it was over.

Virgil was sitting on the ground in a small room filled floor to ceiling on one side with rows and rows of shiny metal kennels, some of which contained other balls of sleeping, purring fluff, others of which remained vacant. The walls were littered with various fliers advertising charity events or clipboards full of half filed adoption papers, so many that they basically concealed the worn pale blue paint that covered walls they were tacked to. The room was old, smelled like cat food, and there was a notable amount of dust that hung in the air around him, but Virgil really couldn’t say he minded.

This room, of all of those in his workplace, was by far his favorite.

This was by far his favorite part of the entire week in general, really, which he figured many may find odd since it was, in fact, work. From what he heard, people were supposed to hate work, but how could he possibly hate work when he worked in a place like this?

When school had finally let out for the day, he’d pulled his bike from the rack and hastily made his way over to the shelter (officially called Hope Animal Shelter) to punch in for the day. After throwing a heavy tan plastic apron over his clothes, he’d done his usual rounds of cleaning the dog kennels and the lobby, as well as refilling various food bowls and water dishes along the way. He liked the many canines that occupied the shelter, and certainly gave them all the love and attention they deserved, but he really preferred to spend most of his time in one specific sector of the building, with the cats.

Virgil had always been more of a cat person than anything else. He felt a certain comradery with them that he didn’t feel with other animals. Dogs were sweet but... excitable, almost unbearably so sometimes, birds were loud and a little too jittery in their behavior for his taste, and fish... well fish just didn’t do much of anything at all. None of them really struck any kind of chord with him, but cats, cats were different.

They were stand offish and independent, just like he was. They were willing to tell you what they liked and what they didn’t via violence and carefully calculated displays of affection, and they didn’t give two shits about what people thought about them. He felt that they had some semblance of a mutual understanding of each other in that regard (at least he liked to tell himself they did).

He felt an especially strong connection to the ones living here, in this little shelter in the middle of basically nowhere. Most of them had been abandoned, deserted. They didn’t really have many people in the world to lean on, so they fended for themselves as much as they could, at least, until they physically couldn’t anymore. Sometimes, when new arrivals came in, they were so angry and scared that Virgil could practically feel how his heart screamed in understanding. He knew what it was like to feel that way, to be so absolutely terrified and furious at nothing and at everything all at once, and there was nothing he wanted more than to stop anyone and anything from ever having to go through that kind of pain ever again. At some point he had vowed it to himself and to them that he would do whatever he could to make it better, no matter how difficult. That’s why it was so rewarding to get affection from these little kitties, because typically, you knew it wasn’t something they gave freely, it was something you earned. Besides, who could honestly say no to loving a face like that?

Virgil certainly couldn’t. He may have been a stone cold bitch sometimes, but in the face of these sweet little fluffy bastards, he melted into and absolute puddle.

Two small black and white kittens scurried around his outstretched legs, using his feet for cover as they made playful swipes at one another, while another, much larger, black and white cat watched them from the top of a tall scratching post in the corner. At the other side of the room, a cream colored tom cat stretched on his back in the sinking light of the sun that radiated through the window. In a different corner, a snowy white cat licked at her paws before delicately rubbing them over her face to clean it. Virgil loved them all.

He considered himself very lucky that he managed to get a job he adored so much, and constantly thanked whatever God there was out there that he was here and not working at the register in some crummy fast food place.

Hope Animal Shelter may not have been perfect, but it was perfect by his standards.

_Or should I say purrrrrfect?_

_No, shut up, that was dumb as shit Virgil, jeeze_

Virgil gave a small smile at the multitude of fluffy balls of angst and snuggles littered around the room, before looking back down to the one he’d just been making conversation with. The old brown tabby next to him continued to purr as she rubbed her cheek against his hand, as if to tell him she was still listening to his story, if he was still telling it.

“Well at least you agree with me. No one else seems too. Everyone seems to love Roman the pompous idiot. Fucking Jerk.” Virgil said, the last scorn-filled part mostly under his breath.

He felt an annoyed grimace slide across his features as the anger in his chest came to a simmer. He wished he was good at letting things go, but in all honesty, he absolutely wasn’t. Inside he still seethed with compact, unfiltered rage. It wasn’t even that big a deal! Why in the world was he still even giving it the time of day? He’d been called worse, insulted in much more hurtful ways before, and by arguably ruder people. Why did it make him so much angrier just because it came from Roman? He didn’t even like Roman! Heck, he barely even knew Roman!

A therapist would probably tell him he had some kind of unresolved issue with Roman’s type, or that he should just leave it be. Maybe they would say that he should forgive and forget and all that bullshit, and they were probably right, not that Virgil would dare give them the power of letting them know they’d been correct. Yet, here he was, becoming increasingly angry at random points in the day just because some stupid boy had called him some stupid name. Virgil only had one answer to all of that, he didn’t know why he still held onto it, and honestly he didn’t want to unpack that shit right now. All he really wanted to do was vent.

And that was exactly what he planned on doing.

Virgil pulled his arms up into the “prince” pose Roman seemed so fond of, and lilted his voice into something halfway between a poorly attempted British accent and overly done old English.

“‘Oh look at me I’m Roman Prince. I sing too much to be socially acceptable and I am unable to appreciate anything if it does not have a reflective surface in which I can admire my own face. Hardy har har royal, hardy har har popularity” he mocked. Though it made him feel a bit better, the words still rang hollow and dull on his tongue.

He didn’t need a therapist to tell him that hadn’t done him any good.

The tabby stopped rubbing his hand and just stared up at him expectantly. Her warm blue eyes held an amazing amount of judgement for a cat. Virgil dropped his arms in a huff and slumped back against the wall.

“Don’t look at me like that, if you met him you’d know I was right” Virgil quipped back at her. If cats could roll their eyes, he was sure that she would have done so. Nonetheless, the cat stood and shuffled herself onto Virgil’s lap, curling her tail around her body and laying her head on Virgil’s chest, silently asking to be petted more in a gesture Virgil was all too acquainted with.

The tabby was old and familiar. She’d been here as long as Virgil had been working, and many many years longer if what he was told was true. When he’d started work here, she’d warmed up to him almost immediately, and if he had thought he could handle a pet, she would have been the one he wanted.

Virgil happily complied with her orders for more petting, scratching softly behind her ears as he continued talking.

“Well, Princey’s still the same dick he always was, but at least the others seem nice enough. Logan’s a little cold, but I think I prefer him that way. At least it’s better than that sugar coated bull everyone else does. He’s got a ‘I don’t take no shit from nobody’ type attitude but like, imagine that energy only grammatically correct, and that’s him. His honesty is refreshing. And Patton, oh you would like Patton. He smiles a lot and seems like the kind of person who chooses to see only the good in the world. He’s definitely the kind of person who would love this place, and he didn’t recoil at the sight of me which is certainly a plus. He just seems... nice, I guess.” Virgil drawled on, nimble fingers still stroking through the cat’s soft fur as her eyes slipped closed in fulfilled delight.

“They’d all better stay nice” Virgil continued a bit absentmindedly as he stared into the wall in front of him “I have to work with them for the rest of the year, so here’s to hoping we can stay mutual acquaintances”

With eyes still closed, the tabby gave a quiet mew. Virgil looked down.

“Yeah you’re right, with my luck something will probably go horribly wrong”

“Are you conversing with that cat again?”

Virgil and his feline friend looked up in perfect sync, heads swiveling to locate the new voice that had entered the room. Seeing who it was, Virgil gave a chuckle and relaxed his shoulders, resuming the petting of the brown fur ball on his lap.

“Well someone’s got to listen to my stories, and Mitsy here is the only one who’s willing to agree with me on most points” Virgil replied back to the most recent addition to their little fluff filled space.

The familiar voice that had entered the room belonged to Barbra, the shelter’s owner and Virgil’s boss. She was a very level headed southern woman in her mid 70s, just slightly shorter than Virgil was, but about 14 times as intimidating. Virgil loved her like a grandmother, a sagely wise, very formidable, and somehow extremely funny grandmother. He’d once seen her absolutely demolish a man who thought it was ok to let his dog chew on the plastic flamingos she had set up as decoration outside. She had threatened to hit him with the florescent pink piece of fowl shaped plastic, and readily fulfilled that threat when he didn’t leave; it was both the scariest and most legendary thing Virgil had ever seen. Needless to say, he felt they were kindred spirits.

Part of him thought he probably shouldn’t have been caught sitting on the floor when he should have been working, but having already completed most of his tasks, he knew the brazen old woman wouldn’t mind him taking a little break to supervise some playtime for their feline guests.

Barbra crossed her arms and cocked a hip, giving him a good natured smile as she moved to correct him. “She only agrees with what you say because you feed her enough treats to fill a small boat.” She laughed “You’re making her chubby”

Virgil took his hands and used them to cover Misty, the brown tabby in question’s, ears, as if to shield her from the comment. He let out an over exaggerated gasp.

“How dare you? I only treat her like the queen that she is. And she’s not chubby, she’s just extra fluffy”

Barbra rolled her eyes and scoffed, the smile not leaving her face, “Oh and I’m sure that extra fluff is why she was a pound heavier than when I weighed her last week?”

“What can I say?” Virgil said, uncovering the cat’s ears and scratching her under the chin “The fluff is magic. Isn’t that right, Mits?”

Mitsy turned to him and meowed happily in response.

“Well I guess I can’t really blame you” said Barbra as she leaned down to give the tabby a scratch of her own, “it’s hard to say no to those persuasive kitten eyes. Can’t blame you for talking to her either, I always did think she was a better listener than most people”

“I’ve come to find that almost all cats are” Virgil replied quietly.

“Almost all animals are, really. They don’t judge like people do, and even better they don’t feel the need to share their opinion on every little thing. They just sit and understand” said Barbra, reaching up to pet the black and white cat perched on the tall scratching post next to her. The cat instinctively leaned into her hand, and Virgil could practically hear the purring from across the room.

From what he could tell, the old woman didn’t get out all that much, instead choosing to dedicate her time and stories to the animals less fortunate than she was. He admired her for that.

“She’s definitely good at sitting and listening” Virgil stated in reference to Mitsy “Makes me wonder why she’s here and not living out her senior years in the yarn covered home of some old lady or something. She’s certainly got the temperament for it”

For a moment, Barbra’s face held something almost melancholy, but the expression was gone so fast it left Virgil wondering if he’d actually seen it at all. The old woman let out a sigh as she met Mitsy’s blue gaze.

“I’ve tried time and time again to adopt her out over the years, but every time I do, she’s sitting there waiting for me at the door the next morning. Always called the owners to see if they had let her out or returned her, but no, she always got back here all by herself. You know, I think that’s just one more thing she does better than us people, she knows her calling, and she sticks to it. I like to think she just likes helping the people and other animals here. There’s a litter of kittens who needs comforting? She’s already snuggled up to them. Someone visiting who’s got a fear of cats? She’s already purring like a motor on their lap. I think she knows we need her, as much as we hate to admit it, and as much as we would like better for her. Besides she may not be living out her years in a cushy home, but she’s still got an old lady to look after”

“You aren’t that old” Virgil insisted.

Barbra laughed as a toothy smile spread across her face. “Sugar, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m older than the floor you’re sitting on” she said tapping the worn down tile next to Virgil with the toe of her black boots.

“Ok, that’s pretty old” Virgil finally admitted, concealing a smile. The old lady didn’t seemed at all bothered by the admission, in fact, she almost seemed smug about it.

“And don’t you forget it. I may be less than 5 times as old as you, but I’m 100 times as wise. Now help this old lady clean the kennels, and maybe tell me about your day while your at it. I may not be as good a listener as that cat, but at least I’ll listen without bribery” she said, grabbing a towel from the bucket by the door and throwing another at Virgil, which hit him smack in the face.

Virgil gave a chuckle as the towel fell from his face to his lap, startling Mitsy into jumping off him and scampering off into the corner. He pushed himself to his feet and assumed his position, setting to spraying down and wiping out the nearest kennel. He honestly didn’t even try to hide the grin on his face this time.

“Yes Ma’am”

...

“Even if the other two are bearable, he’s just a complete pain in the ass that I’m going to be stuck with now for at least till the end of the year. And on top of that, I have to work tech for his stupid show. In. My. Free. Time. And I don’t even know why I’m so caught up on his stupid insults. They aren’t even important. What is wrong with me? This whole thing is just confusing and awful” huffed Virgil as he set to scrubbing down the inside of another cat food bowl with a lot more force than was actually needed.

“Sounds like it” Barbra replied, “but such is the way of life. Maybe you ought to give this Roman kid a bit more of a chance, though. Who knows, maybe you’ll get along” she continued, eyeing the way Virgil angrily cleaned with an amused stare.

The boy in purple rolled his eyes. He’d tried making his peace with Roman long ago, it was really no longer an option, if it had even been one to begin with.

“I highly doubt it” he said, blowing the hair that was starting to fall over his eyes out of the way “My prediction is that trying to get along with him is going to go about as well as throwing gasoline on an already on fire garbage can to try to put it out. I would be an idiot for trying, and it would only end one way”

“Total dumpster fire?”

“Total dumpster fire.”

Virgil glanced back down and set to scrubbing at a particularly stuborn stain on the bowl with renewed vigor. Barbra only let out a quiet laugh in response.

“I wouldn’t be so sure. In all my years of living, I’ve found that life finds ways to surprise us.” She said fondly.

Virgil turned and dropped the hand holding the bowl to his side as he pulled the other up to rest on his hip. He raised an eyebrow at the old woman in front of him, thoroughly unconvinced that “life” would catch him off guard on this one.

“How can you be surprised by a flaming pile of garbage?” He posed. Barbra mirrored his stance and grinned, laughing as she mocked his unbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe you have to burn the garbage and find out. Look, kid, I said I was wise, I never said I had all the answers” she continued, pointing a finger at him in that way old people always seem to when making an argument.

Virgil gave a sigh, and turned back to the task at hand. Everyone always seemed to tell him that he had to live life and figure it out, that the universe was a mysterious thing with mysterious means to mysterious ends. Frankly, he just wished the “universe” would stop being a sadistic conniving little bitch and just tell him what to do. Though, he guessed that wasn’t how it worked, and it wasn’t really anyone’s fault he didn’t have set answers, that was just life- so to speak.

“I guess that’s fair, but I would rather keep my distance from the burning trash heap that would be any kind of friendship with him, thank you very much” Virgil replied. Barbra shrugged, but gave him a firm pat on the back nonetheless, which threw Virgil forward a bit. Despite her small stature, that woman still had quite a lot of strength.

“Suit yourself” she said “but I would try to keep an open mind if I were you. Just some sage advice from a woman who’s had to deal with life’s BS a lot longer than you have. And as much as I would love to keep our conversation and this cleaning stride of yours going, I believe you have some people waiting for you outside”

Virgil put the towel he was holding down and leaned back to look past Barbra out through the glass pane in the door that sanctioned off the cat room from the rest of the building. Sure enough, through the set of glass doors leading from the lobby to the outside, Virgil could see a sleek black car pulled up in the circular diveway in front of the building. Through the window of said black car, he could just barely make out what seemed to be one boy in a beanie looking bored and another one viciously waving at him from the passenger seat. Virgil scowled.

“I still have fifteen minutes left before my shift is over. Trust me, they can wait” he said, picking the towel back up and focusing his attention on anything other than his very untimely friends outside.

Barbra looked from Virgil, to the car, and then back to Virgil, reaching to still his hand from grabbing another set of bowls.

“You worked hard today, dear, you earned it. Besides, I’ve learned not to keep those friends of yours waiting, last time those two were here they played their music loud enough that I’m sure even Deaf Daisy could hear it” she said, throwing a gesture over her shoulder at the white cat with blue eyes, who didn’t look up from where she was still grooming herself in the corner.

Virgil gave a wince, remembering how little self control Deceit and Remus seemed to have. He shot Barbra an apologetic look.

“I’m really sorry about that. Only one of them seems to have an actual brain and I’m convinced the other one chips away at it daily” he said rolling his eyes as he turned to look at the woman next to him.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t mind it, reminds me of what it’s like to be young” she said fondly, likely reminiscing about something or other from her past.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay? I can yell at them and then finish up here” Virgil pushed. He wasn’t just going to up and leave, even if his friends were waiting for him, he was a responsible worker and he would behave as such.

“No, go on before I have to shew you out the door myself. You’re inside far too much as it is, go live a little” she said making the “shew shew” motion with her hands.

“You’re absolutely sure-“

“SKIDADDALE”

Virgil chuckled and let a smile slip across his features. He pulled the apron from around his neck and placed it on a sturdy metal hook by the door. He put his hand on the handle and turned to look over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Barbra”

Barbra looked proud, an upbeat smile on her lips.

“No problem. That just means you’re on litter box duty Monday”

So that’s why she looked so smug. Virgil thew his head back and groaned. Served him right, he guessed.

“Uhhgggggg fine”

“Say hi to the boys for me” Barbra said “and ask Dee how his snakes are doing. I haven’t seen the little noodles in months and for as much of a pain as they were, I’ve got to admit, I miss them” she continued.

“Will do” Virgil replied, half his body already out the door “Later Barb”

“Bye Virge. have fun, kiddo”

Virgil threw a thumbs up over his shoulder and gently closed the door behind him, making sure, firstly, that no feline escapees were trying to make their way into the outside world, and secondly, that the door didn’t slam behind him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Before I start my actual end note, that chapter ended so abruptly because I cut chapter 4 in half because it was so damn long. Very very sorry. I’m not happy with it either, but it happened and we are moving on. It’s 2:32 in the morning and I’m too tired to deal with it)  
> HAHAHAHA- hey guys.  
> “I pRoMiSe I WoN’t lEaVE yOU GuYs HaNgiNg FoR mOnThS oN EnD WiTHoUt wArNiNG”  
> Hahahahah yeah, that worked out GREAT as you can see. Good job Echo, so reliable.  
> Guys, firstly I just gotta say I’m so sorry that took so long. In the last two months I was finishing up my junior year, dealing with some personal issues, and doing a frick ton of prep for my college entrance exams (which I take in 11 days, wish me luck), so this kinda accidentally got put on the back burner. (Omg also forgot there’s a freaking Pandemic outside??) I cannot tell you how much I hated having to stall this, but parts of it were necessary. Most of this chapter (haha this and chapter 5 because chapter 5 is actually just the second half of 4 I had to split up) actually got written with what little break time I actually had, which meant me sitting in the dark outside getting eaten alive by mosquitoes while trying to comfort my cat from the deadly threat to her safety that fireworks apparently are (ie. She’s terrified and I went to make sure she didn’t have the cat equivalent of a panic attack), typing furiously and hoping y’all don’t hate me.  
> I just want to say, to those of you still here, thank you so so much for your kudos and comments, you don’t know how much they mean to me. They inspire me so so much and I love you all more than I can say.  
> Anyway. Thanks for reading this monstrosity. I promise more happens next chapter (haha a little bit but not really, this was when the current chapter 5 was still part of 4 so ACTUALLY more happens in 6), and I promise I won’t take so long to update. WASH YOUR HANDS. STAY SAFE.  
> Much love guys! (I’m sorry this is so long)  
> \- Echo  
> (Ps. Putting chapter 5 up as soon as it gets properly edited, which should be by, like, Friday, possibly sooner should I muster up the courage to go through the ever painful process of fixing everything that gets screwed up when I transfer the chapters into AO3 from my notes. Luvvv uuuuuuuu)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dark sides are the family we always knew we wanted but never knew we were going to get  
> (Sorry this is short, it’s the second half of 4 that got split)

Virgil’s converse clicked on the lobby tile as he walked toward the entrance of the shelter and then turned, stopping to swing around the large wooden welcome desk that sat in the middle of the room. The desk was packed with papers as well as various potted plants, and held a small sign that read “Please ring bell for assistance! We are feline pawsitivily ecstatic you’re here!”, though the word “ecstatic” was crossed out and replaced with the word “egg-static”, which was written above it in black sharpie. 

A pun. 

If that didn’t fit this place’s aesthetic, he didn’t know what did. Virgil couldn’t help but grin as he brushed a piece of dark hair out of his eyes and passed through the little slotted gate-like door that separated the space behind the desk from the rest of the room. 

Behind said desk, his book-bag laid propped up against a large, worn looking office chair, exactly where he’d left it. Reaching down, he snatched the strap of his bag and swung it onto his shoulder, quickly readjusting to the extra weight and silently cursing school for saddling him with so much work, before pivoting and exiting through the thick double glass doors at the front of the building. 

As he pushed the doors open and stepped out of the safety of the shelter, the cool dusk air hit him like a brick. Even through the familiar warmth of his hoodie, his skin felt it like a shock. It was hardly even cold, really, and yet it still managed to knock the air out of his lungs, though part of him wondered if it was the chill in the air, or the colors of the sky. 

Above him, the atmosphere had burst into an array of pastels and wispy tones of grey and white as the sun was nearly finished gliding below the horizon. Lilac bled across the rose tinted lines of feathery clouds, which faded to peach, then to orange, before reaching the sliver of radiating ethereal light that was the sinking sun. 

Winter sunsets certainly never failed to amaze. They probably made for the most peaceful moment of the day. No school, no people, no work, just silence and a color streaked sky. 

“Hey! Slow ass! Are you just gonna keep looking at the fucking air like it just offered you free weed, or are you gonna get in?”

Ok then, moment over, apparently. 

Virgil gave a scowl as he readjusted the strap on his back pack and yelled back. “Hold you’re fucking horses, Remus! Am I not allowed to look at the sky for two minutes without you being on my ass about it? Seriously”

Virgil rolled his eyes and the swoop of his bangs fell back over his face, this time, he let it stay there. The boy in purple took a deep breath of the chilled night air and closed the distance between himself and the shadowy car. 

To anyone else, this probably looked shady as all get out, but for Virgil, this was just a typical Friday night.

As per usual, Deceit was in the driver’s seat, hands resting on the steering wheel, a pair of aviators hanging in front of his yellow eyes despite the fact that the sun wasn’t even out any more. He still had to look cool, calm, and collected, apparently, even if it inconvenienced him personally. Remus was sitting shotgun next to him, though, right now, it was more like on top of him. Remus had very obviously done the most extra thing he could possibly think of and practically climbed on top of Deceit to yell at Virgil from the drivers side window, which, yes, was closer to Virgil currently, but popping his head through the sun roof would have been just as, if not more, efficient. Now that Virgil was approaching the car, Dee took the time to push Remus’s torso off his lap and back into his seat. He then threw an arm casually out the driver’s side window. 

“Hello Virgil, fancy seeing you here” the snake purred, rapping his fingers against the black car’s shiny side while he tilted his head down to peer at Virgil over the top of his sunglasses. 

Virgil didn’t look impressed. 

“Cut the crap Dee” he hissed “I mean, you might as well, seeing as you’re already cutting into my shift. I’m on litter duty now because of you” he huffed in irritation. Deceit didn’t look even the least bit remorseful about that fact as he gave a small indifferent shrug, pulling his arm in to rest it back on the steering wheel. From the seat next to him, Remus seemed to be practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Get in loser, we’re going tagging” Hesaid through a wide, maniac grin, peering around the boy in the diver’s seat to stare at Virgil and shaking his can of neon green spray paint for emphasis. 

Deceit gave a hiss as he whipped his head back to glare at Remus, who stopped shaking the paint and grinned even wider at his friend’s horrified response. 

“Remus! Don’t you dare shake a full can of uncapped spray paint in my car ever again or I swear to God that paint won’t be the only thing I leave tacked to a wall today” Deceit growled, low and sinister, and though it would have been intimidating, they knew the threat was an empty one, at least, they hoped so.

Deceit loved his car more than most people. The conniving viper seemed to have very few attachments in his life, but the car was certainly one of them. He took extreme concern with it. Apparently it had something to do with the freedom of it, or possibly the way he’d acquired it, Virgil didn’t know, nor did he really care, but it was safe to say that if anyone messed with the car, people were bound to get hurt. Remus was really the only one willing to even joke about messing it up.

Virgil chose not to focus on the foreboding words of his reptilian-esk friend, and instead focused on Remus’s greeting to him. 

“Oh, a Mean Girls reference” he said “Are we mean girls now?”

“I feel like we lack the necessary parts to be considered mean girls” Deceit replied, simmering down as he considered the concept “Primarily the girls part. Also the popularity part” 

“Also that fact that you are way too much of a buzz kill to be Regina” Remus sing-songed back.

“Fuck you, I’m totally Regina” countered the snake, who turned in his seat to better face his friend, as well as to keep a narrowed eye on Virgil as he moved around to the rear of he car and opened the back hatch. 

“He’s right” Virgil called out, throwing both his back pack and bike into the trunk of the car next to a big bag of what seemed to be spray paint, before shutting the hatch and moving around to climb into the back seat behind Remus “he’s too scary to be Gretchen or Karen.” 

Remus scoffed and twisted all the way around in his seat in a way that could not have been comfortable.

“Then what does that leave us as?” He inquired.

Deceit just stared at them like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world “Simple” he said to Remus “You’re Karen.Virgil is Gretchen”

“Ha” Virgil called out, propping his feet up lengthwise on the back seat and resting his own back against the door. Silently, he pulled out his phone and sent his mother a quick text saying he was going to be a while longer. 

“Hey! Why do I have to be Karen?” Wined Remus.

“Well Virgil’s clearly Gretchen. Twitchy and small? Obvious Gretchen.” Deceit said, casting a calculating glance back at Virgil, who hissed at him in return. 

“And come on” he continued crossing his arms and leaning forward a bit “you can’t tell me Karen’s ‘I’m a mouse, duh’ line isn’t something would chomp at the bit to say”

“Yeah, rat boy” Virgil said, still looking down at his phone.

“Thats Rat _Man_ to you” Remus began, before his face lit up into a massive grin “Oop look at that, new nick name! I love it” he said, sticking his tongue out through his grin and shooting a flirty wave in Deceit’s direction. 

“Atrocious, the both of you” the snake said, turning to face the wheel again and sticking his car key back into the ignition. 

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love us snakey” said Remus, leaning back into Deceit’s personal space, which Deceit himself has having none of. He pushed Remus back into his seat and made the ‘ _put your seat belts on_ ’  gesture at both of them, peering out over the tops of his glasses yet again so they could see the impatience in his eyes. 

“Well I don’t absolutely hate either of you” he hissed through his teeth, readjusting his mirror and looking a bit more pleased now that both his friends were buckled in “but neither of you should push your luck anytime soon”

“Speaking of snakes, Deceit” Virgil taunted, bouncing off of what Remus had called their friend “Barbra wants to know how your little judgmental shoelaces are doing”

Apparently that was not the thing to say, seeing as Deceit’s face turned from mildly annoyed, to downright furious. 

Immediately, the snake was rounding on him, only held in place by his own seat belt and the divide of space between the back and front seats. 

“You insult Delilah and Fettuccini ever again and I swear to God I will end you” he snarled, pointing a finger accusatorially at Virgil, who only lifted an eyebrow and yawned through a smile.

Deceit got very very sensitive when it came to his snakes, even more so than with his car, though, unlike the car, Virgil knew the story behind them. Heck, he had been there for it. A few months prior, two snakes had been left in a back pack at the shelter, and though she hadn’t known anything about snakes, Barbra had taken them in. She’d done her best to fix them up, and for the most part it had worked, though they still had some issues. When Virgil had mentioned them, Deceit hadn’t even said anything before he was pushing them all out of the car and back into the shelter to pick up the snakes. They spent the rest of that night running around various pet stores picking up supplies while both reptiles wrapped themselves in comfortable loops around Deceit’s neck and shoulders. Thus, Delilah and Fettuccine were made part of the family. 

Since then, you couldn’t say anything about the two little dangerous noodles without their owner hissing at you like an offended mother protecting her children. 

“And for Barb’s sake, not yours-“ Deceit continued “they’re doing very well. Please do let her know, that woman is a blessing” 

“Aye aye captain” Virgil saluted back, as he responded ‘yup! see you later’ to his mother’s ‘ok have fun!’ text.

“Can we go now?” Remus huffed “We have a trunk full of neon paint and a specific wall I am absolutely itching to mutilate” 

“Can you not wait at least while we exchange pleasantries?” Asked Deceit

“Not really!” Remus yipped through a wide grin “We have places to be! Laws to break! People to piss off! Let’s go!” 

“Have you ever known him to be patient? If you don’t start moving soon I’m not totally convinced he wouldn’t turn that can of paint on you” Virgil smirked, letting his wrist fall limp as he lazily gestured to Remus with his phone. 

Deceit looked up and gave a long sigh before turning around, looking very much fed up with all of this.

“Don’t give him ideas” he pleaded through clenched teeth.

“Too late! Already having ideas” Remus said darkly, shimmying his shoulders in a way that only emphasized the statement.

“Remus...” 

“Can we stop for snacks?” Virgil Interjected “I haven’t eaten processed sugar in approximately four and a half hours and I fear I may be dying”

Deceit pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, though, much to Virgil’s delight, Remus looked like he couldn’t agree more with the notion.

“Oh hell yeah!” Remus practically shouted “I’m up for any opportunity to coat my teeth in concentrated candy cocaine. Hey, if you dipped your teeth in pure sugar and didn’t brush them at all for the next couple- oh I don’t know- let’s just say weeks, how long do you think it would take for them to completely rot out of your skull? Would they get all soft first or would they just fall out? Decisions decisions. Can we go find out?” 

The vote now stood at two against one, and when Remus began yelling for snacks, Virgil was more than happy to join in. It didn’t take long for the car to be filled with the familiar rhythmic chanting for sugar.

Finally, Deceit raised a hand to signal for silence, which, surprisingly, he got. He let out a very long sigh as he moved his sunglasses to rest on the top of his head so that he could cast a yellow eyed stare at both of them. 

“Dear God it’s like wrangling toddlers with you two. We aren’t going for snacks. It’ll only make the both of you more unbearable” he said matter of factly.

It looked like their reptilian friend didn’t want to budge on the issue. Oh ho ho, was Virgil going to change that. 

“You sure about that, Snake boy?” He asked through a sly smirk.

“Deadly so” Deceit deadpanned back.

For a moment silence hung in the air, as the two stared at each other, seeing who would relent first. 

Neither did. 

As Deceit continued to pin Virgil where he sat with his gaze alone, Virgil only tilted his head, narrowed his eyes, and smiled. 

“Remus, paint me” he said, holding out his hand. 

“Well, I don’t have any canvas right now and if we are talking portrait style I really only do nude ones but like-“

“I meant throw me a damn can you idiot” 

“Uhhggg you’re no fun” Remus groaned, but reached down to retrieve and then hand Virgil a can of neon paint anyway. Purple neon paint. He was nothing if not on brand.

“Now, Deceit” Virgil said, tone low and foreboding “this can go the easy way, or the hard way”

Slowly, Virgil shook the can of paint, uncapped it, and pointed it at Deceit. Remus caught on to the plot as a mischievous smile crawled across his features. He raised his own can of sickeningly bright green paint in kind.

“Yeah” Remus lilted “drive us to the snacks and we can forget this whole thing ever happened”

Deceit seemed to take in the scene that had presented itself before him, narrowing his eyes as he stared down the (metaphorical) barrel of the paint cans.

“You wouldn’t dare” 

“You want to bet? Remus is crazy, you know he would do it just for fun. As for me...” Virgil shook the can again “don’t come between me and my junk food, Adders”

“Snacks or paint, Dissy, what will it be?”

Deceit shifted his gaze first to Remus, then to Virgil, as if he was weighing his options, before finally slumping back in his seat and shooting a pleading look skyward. He let out a long sigh.

“Very well. Snacks it is. But you better not-“

Instantly Remus and Virgil lowered their weaponized paint, Virgil was the first to cut Dee off. 

“I’m getting coffee chocolate covered pretzels” 

“IM GONNA MIX EVERY FLAVOR OF SLUSHIE”

“I hate you both” Deceit hissed as he readjusted himself in his seat and placed his hand on the gear shift. 

Slowly, Virgil and Remus raised both cans of paint back to eye level, silently threatening.

“Alright alright, stand down, I’m going”

Both cans were lowered. 

“Dive on, Hissy fit” deadpanned Virgil, plucking Deceit’s sunglasses off his head and putting them on “sugar awaits”

Deceit sighed an even longer sigh as Remus burst into a fit of maniac giggles. 

“I really really hate you both” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: you have a chapter ready, why not just wait a week and post it then while you work on the next chapter so readers won’t have to wait as long in between chapters?  
> My brain: or we could post it now  
> Me: what? Why would we-  
> My brain: because reasons  
> Me: that doesn’t-  
> My brain: chapter 4 needs its second half and we feel bad we waited so long  
> Me: but we’ll just be making them wait longer if we post now, that doesn’t make logical sense-  
> My brain: *points can of spray paint at my last two brain cells* don’t fucking test me  
> Me: ok then  
> And that’s why you have a chapter two days after the last chapter. Because I have no self control.  
> Anyway, regarding what this is actually about, THE CHAPTER. Can I just start off saying Deceit is such a freaking wine soccer mom and I love writing him that way. It honestly gives me life. Also his snakes are named Delilah and Fettuccine, Delilah because Virgil suggested it in reference to “Hey there Delilah” and Deceit noticed it had “lie” in it, and Fettuccine because Remus suggested it. Just Remus. They went with it. None of you were probably wondering, but because I’m a snake nerd and Deceit is a snake nerd, Delilah is an Amel (also known as albino) corn snake, and Fettuccine is a snow morph corn snake.  
> I realized I never told you Deceit’s last name until now? It’s Adders. Deceit/Janus Adders (Adder as in the snake haha get it?). There were some questions about if I’m going to start calling Janus by his true name, and the answer is yes and no. Generally, in my story at least, Janus hates his name because he thinks he’ll only get made fun of for it. “Deceit” is the nick name he chooses to go by because it’s somewhat of a safety wall. That being said, a few will call him by his real name, but generally it’s only used in serious situations. If any character addresses him by his real name, feel free to use it as a sign that shit is about to go DOWN.  
> Please leave comments, kudos, or questions below! I really enjoy knowing what you guys think \^-^/  
> Much love guys! (I’m sorry this is so long)  
> \- Echo


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the dark sides vandalize things, are chaotic besties, and Virgil gets some interesting texts from a certain Prince

Ten minutes later, Virgil and Remus were walking out of a dimly lit 7/11, snacks in hand, with a very unhappy looking Deceit trailing behind them. 

Another five minutes after that, and they were all shuffling back into the car, buckling themselves in, and driving off to absolutely destroy some unsuspecting piece of public property with a trunk load of neon spray paint and their own personal brand of chaos. 

Virgil climbed back into his usual spot behind the passenger seat, letting Remus yet again take up the role of Deceit’s trusty co-pilot in the front. Remus had called perpetual dibs on shotgun long ago, and for some reason, having him up there seemed to put Deceit at ease, which, in turn, put Virgil at ease. Giving up the front seat was a small price to pay if it meant that the person behind the wheel was calm, and that they wouldn’t, in fact, all die in a horrible fiery accident caused by a set of panic induced decisions. 

Virgil shifted to stretch out across the dark leather of the back seat and pulled out his phone, idly scrolling through tumblr while Deceit turned the car out of the parking lot and back onto the main road.

In the front seat, Remus fiddled for what felt like ages with a knob on the car’s glowing center console before loud, upbeat music started blasting through the speakers. Virgil felt himself physically cringe. The music was a sickening type of pop- something loud and obnoxious about _how_ _ tonight is the night _ and  how _we only have tonight._ Even Virgil knew that was complete teenage bull shit, but Remus seemed to downright spark at the sound of it. Next to him, Deceit too visibly relaxed, the tension leaving his shoulders as the upbeat music continued on to its overly peppy chorus. It really wasn’t Virgil’s type of song- heck, it was about as far as you could get from Virgil’s preferred type of music- but they both seemed to be enjoying it, and he didn’t have the heart to ask either of them to change the station. 

Deceit tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as they drove to the beat of one horrible pop song after the next, while Remus screamed the lyrics along in time. Even with all the shrieking and tapping and terrible music, Virgil thought the situation was an odd sort of peaceful, a weird sort of calm and chaos and perfect all at the same time. It felt like everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. He was here, munching on Mocha pretzels in the back seat and snickering at Remus, who sang and sucked down a cupful of toxic waste looking slushee mixture while periodically leaning over to feed Deceit a long strand of red licorice from a pack they had stuffed in the passenger side door. 

They tended to fall into that sort of comfortable rhythm whenever they were together, Remus, doing something completely absurd, Deceit, trying to reign him in while stifling a laugh, and Virgil, silently feigning judgement, even though he loved their antics just as much as they did. 

And that’s how they continued for the next 10 minutes. They drove and joked with each other about things no one else would understand, making little insults they knew they didn’t actually mean. The three seemed to talk about nothing and about everything all at once, that kind of nonsensical conversation that didn’t mean anything and at the same time meant so much. It was laughter and safety, and the sheer, out-of-nowhere wholesomeness of it all hit Virgil so hard and so suddenly, that he almost wanted to cry. But he didn’t. No, he just smiled and laughed and sat in the overwhelming belonging of it. 

_Belonging . _

This is what _belonging_ felt like. 

He liked it.

As they drove on, Virgil curled into the familiar warmth of his hoodie and let himself completely relax against the car door. It had been a long day, and even though he realistically knew that it was just as long as any other day, it felt like he’d been on his feet for centuries. The road had begun to even out into an extensive, empty stretch of asphalt by now, vacant of any noise, cars, or light, save for the street lamps casting a pale white and orange glow overhead. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window, basking in the muted shine of each light before the car passed it by, and it was left in their wake. 

It wasn’t late yet, maybe barely edging on 8:30, but the cool darkness and the gentle rocking back and forth of the car almost made Virgil fall asleep. More than once in the span of 5 minutes, he had to shake himself back into consciousness.

The music had been switched to something that was still pop, but was a quieter, a more low ache of a sound, the kind that vibrated deep in the speakers and settled somewhere in the center of his chest. It was no MCR, but it wasn’t unpleasant.

Deceit and Remus were quieter now too, whispering something about “color” and “line art” while laughing at each other, undoubtedly discussing what destructive art they were planning on creating tonight. On nights like these, Virgil sometimes liked to think of them as bandits, all dressed in black and stalking through the darkness, though instead of stealing, they were the ones who left things behind, marks and colors along with the faint, chemical aroma of paint fumes on the air.

The sun was a faint memory by now. Outside, the sky was an inky sort of purple, the kind that had been bleached by light, but in its own way was still something melancholy and beautiful. Virgil felt all the dark calmness swirl around him like a blanket, like a heavy cover draped over his shoulders, urging him deeper into its peace. Not long after, he let his eyes fall closed, giving into the soft tendrils sleep.

. . .

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself nearly falling head first onto dark concrete. Startled to find that half his weight was no longer being supported by the car door, Virgil yelped and flailed his arms out in an attempt to not bash his head into the ground. Unfortunately, his hands didn’t find a solid hold. Fortunately, what they find was a snickering Remus, who had caught him by the shoulders and was blessedly keeping him from what would have been one monster of a concussion. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty! Did you have a nice nappy-wappy, princess?” Remus keened through a wicked grin as he peered down at him.

“Oh fuck off Remus” Virgil growled back. He was still sleepy, after all, and sleepy people didn’t exactly take their friends nearly dropping them out of cars all that well.

Remus’s grin grew as his eyes narrowed, filling with something dark and mischievous.

Something dark and mischievous that told Virgil he had just made a very poor choice of words.

_ Wait- _

“Remus, don’t-“

“If you insist, your highness” Remus singsonged anyway. He then promptly let go of Virgil’s shoulders, raised his hands, and took a massive step backwards. 

As to be expected, Virgil found himself yet again flailing as he plummeted towards the earth. His shoulders hit the ground first (thankfully), followed by his lower body, which fell the full distance from car to concrete with a thud. 

Virgil let out a groan from his heap on the ground, laying on his back as the coolness of the stone worked to numb the already growing ache in his shoulders and legs. From a few feet away, he could see Remus’s dark form as he began to shake with laughter, and behind him, Deceit setting to unload the paint from the back of the car.

“Deceit-” Virgil wined from the floor “Remus just dropped me out of a car”

“Remus don’t drop people out of cars without warning” Deceit called back as he lifted a dark duffle bag of spray paint cans onto his shoulder. He didn’t look at them, too used to their petty arguments to care all that much.

“He told me to fuck off! That can only be interpreted one of two ways! And in this context you wouldn’t like the other way!” said Remus.

“And you thought I would like being dropped out of a car?” Virgil asked as he began pushing himself off the ground with a wince, glowering up at his eccentric friend. 

“You keep running your mouth I can show you the other way, Virgey” Remus snickered back.

“Now now children, settle down” Said Deceit, butting into their conversation “Virgil- you did tell Remus to fuck off, you could have taken into account who was keeping you off the ground” 

“Ha ha!” Remus called in triumph. 

“But he started it!” 

“Well I’m finishing it” Deceit snapped, yellow eyes narrowed at both of them. “So can you two please get over here and help me now?” 

Remus gave a noise that was something between a whine and a displeased huff, and Virgil let out another groan.

“Uhhggg you’re the picture of a stereotypical parent friend” He called as he slumped back onto the cool cracked asphalt. He turned over to lay on his back, staring upside down at Deceit, who rolled his eyes in return.

“Well someone has to keep you two in check” hissed the snake. 

“If you’re the parent friend, does that mean I get to call you daddy?” Remus purred, perking up and taking a few slinking steps forward. 

Virgil gave a overly dramatic gag as he finally (reluctantly) stood to his feet. Remus was very decidedly not paying attention to him though, instead fixing his gaze on Deceit, who had whipped his head around and was starring daggers back. Not a lot tended to phase Deceit, but Remus seemed to be the one thing that could, though he hated to admit it. 

“I would kindly thank you to never say that to me ever again” Deceit sputtered. 

“What ever you say, daddy Dee” Remus said, giving a shrug and a distinctly sinful smile as he moved close and took the bag of paint from Deceit’s shoulder. 

“Somehow less ok” 

“Can we not do this right now?” Virgil asked “I thought we came here to vandalize public property not listen to you two shamelessly flirt with each other” 

“I wasn’t flirting. And if you didn’t want to hear Remus flirt with everything that moves, then you shouldn’t have come” Deceit said, before quietly adding “That’s kinda just Remus”

“He’s not wrong entirely wrong.” Remus shrugged “I’m unpredictable like that!” 

“You’re unpredictability has become predictable” Virgil countered. Remus gave a pout in return. It had always seemed that their chaotic friend had prided himself on his more... deranged tendencies, and it certainly didn’t seem like he was changing that now. 

“Oh well that’s no good. Hmmmmm.... oh! I know! Ok ok hear me out- new idea I’m working on here- we acquire a bunch of live house spiders- I’m talking like multiple gallons of spiders here- and we put them in a giant pool and then we put a surfboard in the middle of it and we charge people to stand on the surfboard in the pool of spiders to see who lasts the longest. I call it Surfing the Web.” Remus said brightly.

Both Virgil and Deceit paused. Taking a very long moment to stare back at Remus in utter confusion. Remus simply smiled back, looking happily between the two of them, proud of his idea and waiting for a response as he shifted his bag of paint from one shoulder to the other, the cans clinking against each other inside.

“Thanks- I hate it.” Virgil said after a long moment “I even like spiders and I hate that” 

“Yes and how would the logistics of that even work?” Deceit said leaning back on his heels and examining his nails “The amount of spiders that would die with each run would be astronomical. The Cost of replacing them would outweigh the revenue. Awful business model if you ask me”

Virgil turned towards Deceit, looking at him like he may have been even more crazy than Remus was.

“THAT is the problem you see with this?” He asked, though it was less of a question and more of a statement of disapproval. Deceit simply stuck his hands in he front pocket of his sweatshirt and shrugged back, and if he had planned on saying anything, he didn’t get the chance before Remus was cutting in.

“Ok, so that looks like a yes from our fine snake boy and a hard maybe from our resident emo. We’ll put a pin in that particular voodoo doll for now” Remus concluded as he moved to place the duffle bag of paint under the glow of the nearest street light. 

“We aren’t putting a pin in it!” Virgil hissed 

“We’re putting a pin in it” Remus said, smiling at Deceit, who simply rolled his eyes again in response, though Virgil could see him choking down a grin of his own. 

“Don’t encourage him” he said, wrapping himself further into his dark hoodie as he shot a pointed look in Deceit’s direction

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Deceit replied, his voice smooth and cloyingly sweet. 

“Bastard, I can see you over there smiling”Virgil hissed back, and Deceit put a hand up to his own chest, feigning hurt.

“Me? No. Of course not. I would never” 

“Liar” 

“EHEM” Remus spoke up, clearing his throat to get their attention, which they reluctantly gave “I love you both, but shut the fuck up, K? God and they say I’m the one with the attention disorder. I mean, since when am I the one keeping us on topic? I guess I keep us on topic if the topic is something interesting. Like that time we talked about how you could bite off your finger like a baby carrot if your brain wasn’t such a goddam pussy...”

“Remus” Deceit deadpanned

“Right, right, on topic. Anyway. I figured since you two like to be boring and play by the rules, I’d at least give you this” Remus said as he pulled something crumpled and small out of the pocket of his leather jacket and held it out to them. 

In the dim, bleached light of the street lamp, Virgil had to strain his eyes to see what it was. It took him a minute to realize that Remus was holding out what seemed to be a folded piece of white paper, like the kind you would tear out of a sketch book. It’s edges had countless bends and folds in it and what seemed to be a dubious looking stain on the edge. Virgil eyed the paper warily, and saw Deceit doing the same. Neither of them reached for it. 

Remus snickered at them, rolling his eyes in amusement as the corners of his mouth pulled back into a smile.

“Go on. Take it. It’s not gonna bite you. Your delectable baby carrot fingers are safe” he said.

Deceit looked at Virgil again before scoffing and giving in, taking the paper from Remus and unfolding it carefully. 

“Holy shit” Deceit said, eyes going wide as he looked at whatever it was. Seeing that it wasn’t going to kill him, or bomb him with glitter (which was a real possibility) Virgil leaned in to look at the paper too. 

It was a sketch.

And a damn good one at that. 

It was done in some sort of what looked to be pastels, judging by the dusty spread of color that blended across the page, and though a bit messy, it was admittedly good. More than good, even. Beautiful.

“Whoa” Virgil murmured 

“You like?” Remus asked 

“It’s amazing” Virgil said, finding that he meant it. 

He looked up at Remus, who gave no massive indication that the praise had gotten to him, though Virgil could see even in the dark how his red-brown eyes sparkled with pride. Remus tried to act like he didn’t care what people thought of him, but it wasn’t hard to see how much he craved certain people’s approval and favorable opinions. Virgil was happy toknow his was one of the meaningful ones. 

“Well good” Remus coughed, hiding hisgrin “Chop chop boys! It isn’t gonna paint itself and I’ve been entirely too still for someone who’s got 26 ounces of what was essentially pure sugar in his system” 

After pinning the reference sketch under one of the windshield wipers of Deceit’s car, and a small discussion over placement and scale, they all set to work. They moved with practiced ease under the flickering glow of the single near street light, tossing cans back and fourth through the dark. They moved in rhythm with each other, winding in tandem like eels through dark water or dancers in a midnight ballroom, simple and clean, and though there was only the  _rattle rattle hisssssss_ sound of paint being sprayed, it was a comfortable sort of silence. Virgil pulled his hood up over his head and stuck a black earbud in one ear, grabbing a neon purple can before closing back in on the wall. The ever present swirl of anxiety in his chest faded while he lost himself in the quiet sounds and the loud colors, and he loved it. 

_Safe_ ,  he thought as he shot another line of purple onto the wall,

_Safe_.

They worked like that for what must have been hours, spraying lines and dots and powdery streaks all over the brick. Remus’s work, of course, looked the best, even unfinished. Sprays of inky black and acid green mixed together to form what was an undeniably beautiful and eerie picture. He’d always been the best of the three of them, years of honing his skills and a good deal more actual talent pushing his designs and execution far beyond Deceit and Virgil’s, though he never seemed to mind. It wasn’t like Deceit and Virgil were awful, after all, but their art was just art, Remus seemed to create life itself with his work. 

After a bit longer, Remus seemed satisfied with his finished piece of the wall, and Virgil saw him move back towards where the three had piled their things on the ground near the car. At some point, Virgil had stripped off his hoodie and left it in the pile with their snacks and the duffel bag of paint, because he was, one, getting too warm with his long sleeves and jeans, and, two, would hate himself if he got any paint on it. Remus had done the same, throwing his spiked leather jacket in the direction of their mess of things, nearly knocking over his drink in the process. Deceit was the only one who hadn’t discarded his outer layers, still complaining about it being “too cold” and keeping both his black and yellow sweatshirt and beanie firmly planted on his person. 

Remus reached down for his slushee cup and took a long drag from the straw, causing loud slurping and ice shaking noises to erupt into the air around them. Virgil payed little mind to the noise and turned back to the wall, looking first at his own paint splattered section and then to Deceit’s, examining them carefully and seeing they were both nearly finished. Then the slurping noises abruptly stopped and Remus spoke up. 

“So, Virgin, why are you getting texts from my brother?” 

Virgil nearly dropped his paint can mid-spray as he whipped around to stare at Remus. Remus stared back inquisitively, an intrigued half smile on his face, and Virgil’s unlocked phone glowing dimly in his hand. 

“What? Why do you- how do you know my- put that down!” Virgil sputtered, already getting ready to jump into action to retrieve his stolen cell, less concerned with what Remus was saying and far more concerned with the fact that  Remus had his _very open_ phone. His very _sensitive information filled, contacts unlocked, kinda his private world extension of himself, only portable safe space currently in the hands of a maniac_ ,  phone.

“It was just laying there” Remus said brightly “And obviously as your friend I have a right to maybe a little bit steal your passcodes while you’re sleeping. Friendship! And noooowwww I would love to know why Roman, is texting you at-“ Remus looked back down at the phone “oooo 1:38 in the morning. I didn’t know you played that way Virgey” Remus’s smile was all wicked intention and white teeth, like he knew something Virgil didn’t. Virgil didn’t like that look at all.

“Oh dear, what’s royal pain trying to rope you into now?” Deceit said, a sly grin edging his own face as the conversation finally began to peak his interest. 

Virgil saw Remus look back down at the phone and scroll through it with one thumb. Roman was texting him? Why was Roman texting him? And why would Remus care? 

Remus finally erupted into giggles as he looked back up at Virgil.

“Awwww he’s setting up a play date” he said, covering his mouth with one hand as started to laugh harder.

“He’s doing a  _what now?_ ” Virgil nearly shouted. His eyes went wide in confused surprise as he nearly fell back into the still wet paint on the wall. The wheels in his brain began to screech back to horribly anxious life, and in another instant, Deceit was rounding on him.

“Virgil, what kind of play date exactly?” He cut in “Because I cannot condone you sleeping with Roman like a day and a half after you found out you were going to be stuck with him. Too early. God and people say I’m easy-“

“Deceit NO. Definitely not THAT” Virgil insisted as he felt boiling heat flash across his face. The blush certainly wasn’t helping his case as Deceit eyed him with what looked like... pity? No, that was definitely NOT what was happening. Virgil hated Roman and Roman hated Virgil. That was that. Both of them were too stubborn to change. 

_ Right?  _

Maybe Barbra was right, maybe he misjudged Roman. Maybe the universe was hanging him this opportunity to make amends. 

_No, that can’t be right. Roman is a self centered jerk who’s too egotistical for something like that. He wouldn’t know how to make an apology if it smacked him in the face,_ he thought _._

Nonetheless, Virgil felt his heartbeat creep up into his throat. So much for a calm night. 

“Oh my God he’s sending emojis” Remus squeaked through a terrifyingly joyous smile. 

Virgil forced his legs to move as he burst into action. He had to know what Remus was laughing at  _right fucking now_ or he thought he might burst into flames. Or have a heart attack. Or bust into flames and  _then_ have a heart attack. 

He thought through his possibilities. Maybe the texts weren’t meant for him. Yeah. Maybe they were for someone else and they accidentally got sent to him. After all, why would Roman be trying to talk to him, let alone set something up with him? That had to be it, right? An accident.

But then again, how could Roman accidentally text Virgil after he hadn’t talked to him in what was essentially years? Texting him would take effort. So then what if it wasn’t an accident? Was it a prank? A dare? Or worst of all, was it real? 

“Remus GIVE ME THE DAMN PHONE” he hissed as he threw himself at the betrayer currently holding his phone hostage. Remus had lofted said phone high into the air, dangling it over Virgil, who cursed his small stature for the umpteenth time. 

“Oh yes, please do, not like I would want to see or anything. Remus, do let me see” Deceit said through a smirk, before hemoved to stand next to their taller friend, glancing up at the phone and trying to read the tiny, upside down text. 

Virgil gave a snarl of fury. Would everyone really get to read what was clearly so funny before he did? 

“Why are you guys so fucking tall?” He hissed through gritted teeth, jumping up to try and snag the phone, and missing horribly.

“Why are you so fucking short?” Remus asked in response.

“I’m not short I’m VERTICALLY CHALLENGED”

“Same difference” Deceit said “Give” 

“What are the magic words?” Remus purred. Deceit rolled his eyes. Both of them pointedly ignored their very angry emo friend. 

“Give me the phone?” 

“Nope!”

“I’m going to draw a dick on your artwork if you don’t give me the phone?”

“Tempting bribery, but less close”

Deceit gave a long annoyed sounding sigh as he stared back at a perpetually grinning Remus. He threw his head back in defeat.

“Please, may I have the phone?” Deceit finally said.

“No, actually answer I was looking for was ‘goldfish in a condom’ but since you were so polite I’ll let you have it” Remus said, cheshire smile still etched on his features as he dropped the phone into Deceit’s waiting, outstretched hand. 

“Disturbing” the snake said, then turned to look at the phone “Oh there are other numbers in this chat, so either this is about to get really embarrassing for you-“ he eyed Virgil “going to be really hot and heavy-“ he grinned at Remus “or this is going to turn out to be boring” 

Virgil stared daggers back at him, the phone still out of his reach and decidedly not being given back. He picked up his jacket from the ground, brushed off the dust, and slipped it back over his shoulders.

Deceit examined the phone with interest, and Remus rested both arms on top of Deceit’s beanie covered hair, stretching so he could rest his head on top of them and read along in time. Deceit scrolled for a few achingly long seconds before the mirth in his eyes dulled and his face shifted back into its ever present scowl of disapproval. 

“And it’s boring” he sighed, and handed the phone lazily back to Virgil, who snatched it away from him about as fast as his hands could move. 

Remus let out a displeased squeak at that. 

“Oh come on! You didn’t have to tell him yet! It was fun to watch him squirm” he pouted, and stepped back from Deceit to throw his hands up in anguish. Deceit gave a huff and crossed his arms.

“You implied there was something to squirm about” he hissed, as Virgil rushed to reopen his phone “it’s less fun when you find out they’re just meeting glasses nerd and over-enthusiastic puff ball for a history project. My hope of anything actually squirm worthy has officially gone out the window” 

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief as he scanned the messages, the history project, of course it was the history project. That was the obvious answer. Why hadn’t he thought of that? 

Earlier in the day, they’d been assigned a semester project they were supposed to work on as a group over the coming months and submit before the end of the year. Frankly it sounded like a lot of reading and writing and long nights suffering over chapters and chapters on some long dead group of “heroes” but that wasn’t the part that made Virgil’s stomach sink. No, the “group” part was. He would be stuck working with Logan, Patton, and Roman for months. He’d wanted to crumple and die right there when he’d found out, let the universe end him while he still had his sanity, but unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky. More months with a group of people who probably hated him. Roman did. Logan might have. Virgil couldn’t really see Patton hating anyone but hey, he’d been wrong before.

Now, at least though, them meeting for a group project meant there wasn’t any weirdness with Roman’s messages. And for a moment his anxiety subsided, before coming back at him with what seemed to be vengeance. 

_ They want to meet. They want to meet outside of school. They want to meet outside of school as a group in a public setting with no supervision where anything could happen or I could say the wrong thing and they could hate me more than they probably already do and- _

_ Breathe.  _

He looked back up at Deceit and Remus. 

_Ask them to give you a reason not to go!_ His mind screamed.

_ Ask them to come with you! _

“Could you stop saying the word squirm, please?” He decided to say instead, still clutching his poor, abducted phone, before quickly shutting it off and returning it safely to his pocket. He’d read and respond to the texts later.

“SQUIRM SQUIRM SQUIRM SQUIRM SQUIRM” Remus shouted in response, in the purposefully contradictory way Remus always said things.

“Oh my god I will kill you. I will kill you and no one will find the body” Virgil snarled back.

“Well, you know, if you bury me, the worms are gonna come for my decomposing flesh, and you know what worms do?” Remus lilted. Virgil nearly screamed.

“Don’t you _fucking_ -“ 

“They  squirm ”

“That’s it. You’re done” 

Virgil was hissing as he threw himself at Remus, swiping furiously at him with sleeve covered fists as Remus dodged and laughed out loud, feigning right, then left, as Virgil lunged for him. Despite his taller, stronger, deniably more athletic build however, Remus didn’t try to fight back, not even a little. 

“Virgil” Deceit sighed, staring at their little war “I know you’re a pent up ball of seething, emo angst, but could you contain your murder for like two minutes? I think we’re almost done here” he finished, and stared back at the wall. There was a bright yellow paint can at his feet, and he studied their picture with pleased finality.

Virgil reluctantly gave up his pursuit and let out a sigh of his own, pushing the hair out of his eyes and standing back up straight. Remus also assumed his normal position and poked Virgil in the shoulder with a giggle as he ran by to stand on Deceit’s right side. Virgil took the position to the right of Remus as they all studied their work. 

The picture stood enormous and beautiful on the brick in front of them, all sharp lines and bold colors. Inky blacks, and honey yellows, acidic greens, and buzzing purples stood out in the dark like fireworks as they melted together, separate, but part of one whole. 

_ Like us. _

Virgil breathed a sigh. Deceit and Remus could be annoying, infuriating even, sometimes, but he could never actually hold it against them. He felt safer with them than he’d ever felt with anyone elsein his life, aside from maybe his mother. They didn’t make him feel like an outcast, like the anxious little kid everyone thought him to be. No. They saw him for him, and somehow, they liked that person. They cared about him, and God, did he care about them too. They weren’t perfect, but in a way, they were family.

The wall in front of them held images of three figures all huddled together, as if they were a war line holding back enemies, defending themselves and each other all at once. 

In the middle was a giant yellow cobra reared back, it’s hood flared and it’s tail coiled in a spiral next to it. It’s angular eyes were pitch black as they stared out, glittering, and it’s mouth was open, revealing two long sharp fangs, slick with venom. It was the tallest of the three, menacing and elegant, as if it would slip right through your fingers if you tried to hold it, but wouldn’t dare leave before nicking you with it’s fangs first. Dangerous, but oh so enticing. 

To the snake’s right side, in the coil of its tail, sat a black and green octopus, it’s many long tentacles curling and grabbing, as if they were about to come straight through the wall, outstretched, to drag him back into the surrounding mist of color behind it. It was beautifully done, realistic and toxic like slime, eerie yet glowing like emerald. It’s body was black, but it’s suckers were a scorching green, everyone of them bearing a white ringed highlight, like it itself was radioactive. 

On the on the snake’s left side, stood the last figure, crouched low in a stalk. It’s lilac eyes stared forward threatening, but wary, it’s mouth too, open in a hiss. The black cat stood against a purple storm, and it’s tail swished back to disrupt the air. From it’s back, protruding seamlessly, were 8 long spider legs, even and hooked, and, surprisingly, not all that out of place. It’s fur was sleek and smooth like midnight, it’s spider legs glowing the same bright neon as it’s claws. For once, Virgil felt proud. 

The three stared at the wall, their wall, for a long minute. There was something about the completion of something like this, something that felt right. They’d made this, together, as one whole and no matter what happened, even if this was covered up tomorrow, no one could take that away from them. 

From the corner of his eye, Virgil saw Deceit shiver, and carefully, quietly, tuck himself gently into the crook of Remus’s arm. With equal gentleness Remus moved to hook his arm over Deceit’s shoulder and softly pull him in, though neither of them pulled their gaze away from the wall to acknowledge it. If asked, Deceit would probably just say he was cold, and only did it because of the chill in the air or the breeze that just blew past, but they all knew that would be a lie. 

Virgil gave a small smile and looked down at his converse, purple and green, the same shades as his own eyes, filling his vision. 

Suddenly, he heard a scoff and looked up to see Deceit and Remus looking at him matching contented expressions on their faces, before one of Remus’s arms was hooked around his shoulder too, and he was yanked closer with a squeak. 

And there they stood, one little huddle of black and neon in the night, side by side, family.

_Belonging_ Virgil thought again as he looked back at their picture 

_ Yeah, Belonging feels nice. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys. Well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’m sorry for being gone for like literally 6 months. It’s been far too long. I wanted to get this chapter out in like October, but life got in the way. From August to December I was in my second to last Semester of High School, which meant STRESS and PAIN as well as applying for Colleges and deciding what I wanted to do with my life. It was rather problematic. On the bright side though, I got into my first choice school and I don’t have to make anymore applications which means more time! Yay! I appreciate all of your concern for my well being and your continued support of this fic, trust me, no matter how long it takes, I will finish it. If I disappear for long periods of time, know that I WILL RETURN. I’m not letting this fic die so help me God. I appreciate you guys so much. You get me through the day.  
> You should know that partially this chapter took so long due to some rewrites I did in my over all story so that things could work out the way they needed too. My hope is to get more chapters out more consecutively but of course no promises. You should also know I’m not entirely happy with this chapter cause of the splits in writing style but you know what it’s here and we are going with it.  
> Special thanks to those of you who asked if I was ok (I am) and to the irl friends who found this fanfic and yelled at me about updating (love y’all).  
> Promise to try and write again soon. Sorry for the wait y’all. I love you guys.  
> All my love and appreciation,  
> Echo

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! For those of you who are here from artyeet’s channel and were following the progression of this fanfiction from the start, thank you (and also I’m so sorry it took so long, but it’s finally here now so OWO)! For those of you who aren’t, please please please go check out her YouTube channel. It was her designs for these characters who even inspired me to write this.  
> This is my first fic, so please bear with me here. Also my writing style is super long so I am so sorry for that. I have the plot of this story fully mapped out, and looking at it, it’s gonna be pretty dang long. I’ll update whenever I can, but I’m super excited for this story so hopefully it’ll be soon!  
> Link to artyeet’s speed paint of the high school sides (aka what inspired them!): https://youtu.be/DmmVT5ZazVM  
> ^^ I’m working from those designs so check them out!  
> Thanks so much to whoever reads this!


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